Somatic Memory
by DB2020
Summary: A freak accident lands Squall under the care of an irritated exknight. The relationship that develops soon becomes something only Seifer has any memory of. When Seifer can’t let go, will he be able to make Squall’s body remember?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

**Warning: **Yaoi lemon and Squall is out of character. He will be back to normal, so for now just concentrate on Seifer's character instead.

**HAPPY HALLOWEEN**

Somatic Memory

Part I

"There's been an accident," Zell Dincht announced into the headset he cradled against his ear, too rushed in making the call back to Balamb Garden to slide the device into place properly.

"Accident?" Quistis Trepe's voice sounded on the other end.

"It's Squall," Zell stated, unsure how to explain the circumstances properly.

Mild concern turned to worry as the head instructor waited for further news.

"We're bringing him in now. Something went wrong with Selphie's limit break. I'll explain more when we get there, but for now just make sure Dr. Kadowaki's ready."

"How badly is he hurt?" Quistis questioned, voice near trembling despite the need to remain composed.

"It's pretty bad baby. You might not even recognize him."

There was a gasp from the other end. "Sweet Hyne," the young woman exclaimed. "Hurry Zell, I'll be waiting in the infirmary."

"Okay baby, we're almost there."

---

A limp form wrapped in a long brown leather duster was cradled in Irvine Kinneas' arms. Carrying the unconscious commander in rushed steps from Ragnarok's lowered ramp, the gunman grit his teeth as he tried to hurry without dropping the smaller man. The damply clothed form in his arms was barely drier than himself after being out in one of Esthar's seasonal rainstorms, but his coat was likely to keep Squall warmed, not to mention hidden from view.

Zell trotted along side the lanky cowboy, hands stuffed in his shorts' pockets and an unusual expression of serious regard marring boyish features. "What'll we do?" he questioned with an air of hopelessness.

"We'll fix it," Irvine affirmed confidently, a farce to keep himself from despairing. There was an anguished look to violet-blue eyes. "It's all my fault," he mumbled sadly. Clutching the covered body in his hold tighter, he silently apologized to Squall over and over.

"It's not your fault man," the spiky blond assured. "We all should have been paying a bit more attention." While he hadn't actually been in the field with them, he'd been goofing off on the ship when he should have been doing maintenance, subsequently staying dry but also guilty of slacking. He regretted making complaints about the rain and feeling content as he watched his three friends go out and deal with it.

"Yeah," the gunman agreed hesitantly, not really feeling that it was any less his fault.

Breaching the crowded blockade of cadets ambling around during lunch recess, Zell walked ahead to make a path. The pair ignored curious glances, rushing to make a beeline for the small hospital wing.

"Maybe we should have taken him to some place in Esthar," Zell commented.

Shaking his head, Irvine reasoned, "Dr. Odine would probably experiment on Squall if we brought him in like this. There's only one doctor I'd trust to treat me or anyone I know."

"I hear ya man," Zell agreed.

"Zell, Irvine," Quistis called from up ahead, just outside the infirmary's entrance. Eyes wide, she stared at the bundle in the gunman's arms. "Is that him?" she questioned dumbly.

"Who else darlin'," Irvine drawled, not slowing as he continued past the blonde woman.

The first composed reaction came from Dr. Kadowaki. Setting out an array of supplies, she hardly spared the group a glance before ordering, "Set him down on the bed."

With great care, Irvine eased the commander onto the pristinely made bed, his arms beginning to feel the burn and feeling light at the loss. Jaw clenching and unclenching, he slowly removed his coat.

Quistis moved to join the two boys, hovering at the edge of the bed. Peering down at her commander, she blinked several times before taking her glasses off. Eyes wide in shock, she left the bedside to retrieve a tissue from a nearby box on Kadowaki's desk. Taking a minute to thoroughly clean the already clean lenses, she set her wire framed glasses back into place. Returning to Irvine's side, she stared down once more, expecting to see something else.

"Is that…" she began but trailed off, tilting her head to the side in the hopes that a different angle might set things right.

"That's him alright," Zell informed dejectedly. "It was an accident."

Three pairs of eyes stared intently down on an unconscious Squall. Dressed the same as always, the damp white t-shirt clung to the brunet's torso and the black leather pants fit as snuggly as usual. The trouble began at the top of the brunet's drying mass of thick chestnut-brown hair. Furry cat ears stuck out like triangular tufts of wayward strands, sharpened canines were just visible past slightly parted lips, and half inch nails that were akin to claws adorned lax fingers.

The breaking point for the head instructor was when she finally noticed a long dark brown tail lamely strewn beneath the young man. "Sweet Hyne," she exclaimed, a hand going to her mouth.

"I know baby," Zell said in a consoling manner, turning to sling an arm around the shocked woman.

"Oh dear," Dr. Kadowaki said as she approached. "Now I've seen everything."

"Can you fix him?" Irvine questioned pleadingly.

"I don't know yet," the middle aged woman commented solemnly. "First, let me check his vitals, then you can walk me through what happened."

"I docked as quickly as I could!" Selphie Tilmitt cried as she rushed past the automated door, the smooth hiss indicating it closed behind her. "Is he gonna be alright?" she asked earnestly, jogging the short distance to the bed. A near sopping mess, her usually bouncy hair was lifeless and flat, while her yellow jumper clung to her small body.

"If he's not dead, then there's nothing to worry about," the doctor assured. "I've treated this boy enough times to know he's got more lives than a cat."

Bright green eyes blinked in quick succession. Smiling, Selphie laughed. "That was good," she commented, quickly sobering at the serious gazes on her friends' faces. Apparently this was no joking matter.

Intoning an indifferent sound of agreement, Kadowaki gave up on trying to lighten the mood. "If you'll all please step away," she directed sternly.

"He's just asleep, not konked out or nothing," the spiky haired boxer stated. "We had to sedate him."

"Sedate?" the doctor questioned while reaching out to take the commander's pulse. "What happened?"

All at once, the three witnesses began to speak, each talking over the other until Kadowaki straightened and held a hand up for silence. "Irvine, please explain," she requested.

Sighing heavily, his worries hardly soothed, the gunman solemnly took his hat off, revealing disheveled tresses of long auburn hair. Holding his hat to his breast before beginning, he gave another sigh and told the story. "Well, it's like this," he began as though about to tell a long tale. "We were up against a Torama near the outskirts of Esthar. Everything was going fine. It was me, Squall, and the little lady fighting. Zell was back at the ship keeping an eyes on things."

"It's all my fault," Selphie cried, scuttling close and kneeling at the side of Squall's bed. She draped herself across the commander, wishing her mistake away. "I turned Squall into a cat-boy!"

"Continue," the older woman said, giving the dramatic young woman a sardonic gaze.

Hesitating a moment, Irvine did as instructed. "Squall was going in for the final hit, but the two of us," he gestured to the lamenting woman half laying atop of an unconscious Squall, "we had our limit breaks at the same time. We'd been fighting for a while and weren't paying much attention. Without thinking, I let loose on the critter and killed it. Selphie was in the middle of incanting her spell, and Squall was already in place to strike too. That's when it happened."

"My limit break hit Squall!" Selphie cried, sniffing back the beginning of watery tears. "It was gonna be funny. I wanted to turn the Torama into a kitten… I've been working with Quistis on blue magic and wanted to try a little something out."

Frowning, Kadowaki thoughtfully stared at the sleeping young man. "And you can't turn him back?" she questioned.

"I don't know how," Selphie admitted. "We tried to cure him, but nothing worked. Besides that, he got all worked up and we had to put him to sleep."

"He's not all there," Irvine added. "It's not just his appearance that's been…" he searched for the right word, "changed."

"I see," the older woman murmured. "In any case, I can't have my workspace crowded like this. I'll ask one of you to go to the library and assist me in a little research, and the rest of you may pace the halls outside if you must."

"I'll see what I can find," the head instructor announced, knowing blue magic better than anybody.

"Me too!" Selphie called as she broke away and stood with a determined gleam in her eyes. "I gotta fix it."

"Books," Zell mumbled in a crestfallen manner. "I'm no good with books."

Shaking her head, Kadowaki kindly suggested, "Why don't you and Mr. Kinneas get some coffee from the cafeteria? When you've settled down, maybe you can be of some help in here."

Perking up, Zell gave an enthusiastic nod, wondering if he might trade the coffee in for a hotdog.

"Maybe one of us should stay here," the auburn haired gunman suggested with a wary look toward the sleeping brunet. "He was pretty vicious. Selphie ended up using a cure on all of us by the time we managed to put him under. There's no telling what'll happen when he wakes up, which could be very soon if he's junctioned with enough resistance to sleep spells."

"I'm sure I'll be just fine," the good doctor stated without room for question. Gesturing for the small group to run along, she shooed them toward the door.

Alone with her patient, the older woman gave a heavy sigh and shook her head. "Goodness gracious Mr. Leonhart. Just when I think I've seen everything from you."

---

Seifer Almasy strode through the halls of Balamb Garden, chin raised for the sole purpose of letting everyone else know he was above them. While life after the war was much the same, he did have to work slightly harder to prove how much better he was. Still a cadet, he hardly let that affect his arrogant attitude towards his superiors. In a show of good faith, and partly because Trepe demanded it, he actually wore his uniform from time to time. Like a wolf in sheep's clothing, he had his moments of acting like a well-behaved cadet.

The fact that he was currently sporting an arm with a bullet lodged in it didn't seem to impact his cocky demeanor in the least, though it did wonders for causing everyone to jump out of his way slightly faster than usual. Thanks to his injury, his uniform jacket was ruined, but it would give him a plausible excuse to wear a t-shirt that didn't itch like crazy instead.

Headed toward the infirmary, the blond silently cursed his fate at being partnered with such inept gunbladists. If he didn't take his field test in a week, he'd give in to the urge to fight the all mighty commander, court marshal or no court marshal.

What sort of monkey pulled the damn trigger on accident? What moronic klutz was stupid enough to not know if the safety was on or not? He knew it had been an accident, because invoking his wrath was a dead wish, but he was no less annoyed by it.

Striding through the automated door, Seifer felt compelled to announce his entrance with more than a hydraulic hiss. "I'm dying doc," he declared loudly. "Patch me up."

Jade-green eyes scoured the small wing. Nearby was the doctor's desk, littered with the day's patient reports. Slightly farther away was a large row of filing cabinets with every cadet's medical history. Kadowaki still seemed to have some general dislike for computers. The white walled, ritualistically sanitized infirmary contained a sum total of ten beds, each separated with curtains hanging from the ceiling. With an endless supply of potions, there weren't many surgeries going on. Though, he was pretty sure there was some operation room on the second floor.

"Mr. Almasy," Dr. Kadowaki called out with obvious exasperation. "Take a seat and wait your turn."

Seifer placed the woman to be behind curtain number one, which just so happened to be the only entirely closed off area at the moment. Glancing from his bleeding right arm to the curtain that kept the woman from view, he wondered whether it would be wise to actually wait. "There's a bullet in my arm. I think it's silver. You know how us sorceress knight's are weak to silver."

"Say so when you first come in," the older woman chastised, attention effectively drawn away from the sleeping commander. Casting the curtain aside, the sound of the metal rings sliding against the securing bar above, the doctor came into view. "It's werewolves and silver if I recall correctly, but who knows what you are when you stand there so calmly."

Grinning, Seifer approved of the woman's astute observations regarding his endurance for pain. "I guess I'm just cut above the rest. I barely feel a thing."

"Oh?" Kadowaki intoned, approaching to give an initial examination. Reaching out, she grasped the wounded arm, tugging at the makeshift rag tied just above the wound in the upper part of the ex-knight's arm.

"Ow! Dammit, be careful," Seifer hissed.

Smiling, the older woman directed the blond brute to take the second bed over. "I'll put you to sleep first."

"Good," the ex-knight grumbled. "I hate needles."

"You and every other cadet," the doctor complained, tired of the constant need to stock up on sleep powder. While prying a bullet from wounded flesh was hardly the job of a local anesthetic, it would still be nice to not always have to put her patients to sleep for as little as tying a few stitches.

Settling in on the next closest bed, Seifer happily relaxed, hardly caring that he had blood flowing off onto the stark white sheets. "So, who's behind curtain number one?" he questioned, loud enough so that the person could hear him.

"A friend of yours," Dr. Kadowaki announced with sarcasm.

"Like that narrows the list," Seifer retorted, grumbling to himself when the older woman didn't seem to pay him any attention.

"Take this," the dark haired doctor said, proffering a small paper cup for the former knight's use. "All of it," she added when handsome features cringed in disgust. Sleeping powders were a nasty taste of rancid that couldn't be masked by any flavored liquid. It was best to take it with a little bit of water, having the taste concentrated, but down the throat in a couple gulps.

Before Seifer could comment, he was limp against the bed in sleep, blissfully undisturbed by the less than careful extraction of the bullet. The next thing he knew, he awoke to the potent scent of a smelling salt's ammonia and the terrible aftertaste of the sleeping powder in his mouth.

Wincing at the pain in his arm, jade-green eyes found his wound tended. Cleaned of most the blood, all that was left was an angry red suture job.

"Drink this," Kadowaki ordered, holding yet another paper cup out for the blond's use.

Grunting his acknowledgment, Seifer grasped the potion and downed it gratefully. With a sighing exhale, he wallowed in the heavy lethargic feel of still being under the sleep effects, though now without the cutting pain of any wound.

"You can rest a while longer. You were only out for fifteen minutes. It should take about another forty minutes before the powder wears off completely," the doctor advised. "I'm leaving the stitches because I know you have a record of reopening wounds."

The all-familiar bell of the intercom sounded within the infirmary. "Would Dr. Kadowaki please report to the training center? I repeat, would Dr. Kadowaki please report to the training center. That is all."

"Oh dear," Kadowaki murmured, wondering why she still expected quiet days while stationed at a mercenary base.

Yawning, Seifer ignored the older woman, content to take an hour of rest without being lectured by any instructors. The hiss of the door ensured that he was alone, excluding the mystery patient that he assumed was asleep. Rolling over, away from the crimson mess he'd left, the blond settled in more comfortably, hardly feeling up to drawing his bed's curtain for greater privacy. Staring for a brief moment at the tall white curtain of the bed across from his, he closed his eyes to the sight and easily forgot that he wasn't in as private a place as his dorm room.

The sudden rustling of sheets from the nearby bed caught Seifer's attention, though he didn't care enough to bother opening his eyes. When the movement continued, as though the person were thrashing about, he sighed. The sound of the sheets being shredded was something he couldn't simply ignore, especially when it was so violent.

"Quiet!" Seifer barked, about three seconds away from pummeling whoever dared to disturb his moment of peace.

It suddenly went quiet, and Seifer once more settled down to go to sleep. However, the ghosting whisper of the curtain shifting snapped him right back to attention. With a stream of foul curses in mind, he sat up and prepared to create an invalid out of the invalid.

Half way between standing and sitting, Seifer went rigid. Staring down at the floor, he watched as a head of dark chestnut hair popped out from beneath the bottom rim of the floor length curtain. There was a slow caution to the way the head turned upwards, revealing to the ex-knight that his target for a beating was Leonhart.

Blinking, Seifer wasn't sure he was seeing things correctly. Were those furry cat ears he saw pressing low against tresses of unruly hair? Perhaps Leonhart was just having a particularly bad hair day.

Big stormy blue eyes stared warily with pupils narrowed in slits of black. Slowly sliding down from the bed, creeping out of the enclosed area, the lithe figure eased away from the tall blond in paced movements.

Seifer watched, shell shocked, as Leonhart crawled away. Finally, he stood up all the way, which seemed to have been the wrong thing to do. Crouching nearly flat against the cold floor, the younger man seemed to go from defensive to offensive.

"Leonhart?" Seifer questioned, now certain it wasn't just a bad hair day. "I didn't think you were the cosplay type."

Baring his teeth, the crouching creature launched forward abruptly, making to tackle the tall man.

All at once, Seifer had Leonhart pinned to his bed, restraining the violently thrashing boy with brute force. "Settle down!" he commanded in annoyance. "What the fuck's wrong with you?" Reaching out, he attempted to tug one of the ears off, but found it wasn't so easily dislodged and caused the brunet to emit a rather low growl of protest.

Laughing, the blond found great amusement in it all. It wasn't cosplay. "This isn't cosplay," he thought aloud. "What in Hyne's name have you been up to?" Managing to stay the violent kitty, he reached down with an arm and grasped a swaying tail. "Is this thing real?" he muttered in disbelief, tugging on it a few times and laughing when the human-feline hybrid growled some more.

When sharp nails dug into the forearm of his offending arm, he growled his own tune of displeasure. "Chill the hell out. If doesn't hurt tiny kittens, then it's not hurting you any," he supplied in excuse, countering his words about not doing harm by giving a fairly harsh tug on the dark brown tail.

The voice that sounded from the less than normal Squall wasn't necessarily inhuman, just more carnal in a need to express certain things without words. The demand for freedom and for the bullying ex-knight to stop tugging on his tail was expressed with growling.

"Play nice," Seifer hissed, attempting to capture the wildly scratching hands that had escaped. When the protesting boy attempted to bite him, he lost his cool. Managing to at least temper himself to only give a slap, he feared it had been too much when all struggling ceased.

Going limp, Squall stopped trying to break free. He simply stared wide-eyed, as though being slapped were the greatest offense ever committed.

"Oh come on, it couldn't have hurt that bad," the blond grumbled. "I barely tapped you."

Frowning, Seifer observed the brunet's odd reaction warily. After several long minutes of having a staring contest, which he won, he sat back and let the boy up from his hold. Ready for some attack, he was quite surprised when Leonhart continued to lie there.

"Well get up," he ordered expectantly, gesturing with his hand for the boy to shoo.

Immediately scrambling to move out of the way, the lithe figure slid down to the floor, crouching low and gazing up as though expecting a cookie for his efforts.

Gaze narrowing, Seifer studied the brunet curiously. "Can you speak?" he questioned. When big stormy blue orbs simply stared at him without comprehension, he sighed. "Can you do anything besides scratch a person to death?" he grumbled angrily, lifting an arm for examination.

Appearing as though he'd walked through a patch of thorn bushes, the ex-knight sorely dabbed the end of the bed sheet against one of his forearms. Torn between taking a potion for it and sucking it up, he was surprised when the little cat freak slowly moved to act. On guard, the blond watched carefully as the brunet grasped his arm, his main concern being the sharp nails that had given him the wounds in the first place.

With an almost eager edge, the arm taken into Squall's care was promptly licked. Tongue lapping indiscriminately along the coppery tasting flesh, it was startling when the ex-knight suddenly yanked his arm back.

"What the hell?" Seifer bit out incredulously, red in the face after waiting slightly too long to react, having simply watched as Leonhart licked him.

Crouching back down, Squall cast his gaze to the floor.

Examining his arm, Seifer glanced at the bowed head of his rival. "A bipolar cat I see," he muttered to himself. "So is that why you're here?" When confused eyes glanced up at him, he waved his hand in dismissal. "Never mind." The answer to his question was obvious.

Standing from the bed, Seifer proceeded to loot from the doctor's store of potions, easily procuring himself a little something for his scratches. When he returned to the bed, he was stopped in his tracks by the sight of a frustrated Leonhart attempting to unlace a heavy black boot. Rather, the brunet was valiantly trying to pull it off while clawing at the laces, as though not entirely certain that the knotted strings were what kept the footwear in place.

"You gotta be shittin' me," Seifer said in complaint, not believing the predicament he currently found himself in.

Seated on the floor still, Squall let his foot drop, the boot thudding to the floor. In an almost pleading manner, he gazed up at the tall ex-knight, silently asking for help.

Seifer clapped a hand to his face, sighing at having to deal with such a problem. "I always said you were no good unless you had a blade in your hands," he commented, stalking forward to aid the inept creature.

Roughly undoing the laces and tugging the boots off, Seifer tossed the things aside with a satisfying clunk. It wasn't until afterwards when Leonhart beamed up at him for the deed that he realized he'd just helped his rival.

"Shit!" he intoned in distaste, flopping down on the bed and turning his back to the boy still sitting on the floor. "Go to bed or something," he grumbled, not caring that his words would not be understood.

Forcing himself to ignore the surrealism of it all, Seifer concluded that there had been some freak accident and that Kadowaki would be back soon to take care of the cat-boy. Rolling over in an attempt to become more comfortably situated, he made the mistake of cracking a lid out of curiosity.

Sitting in the same place and much the manner as before with his knees sticking out and the heels of his feet together, Squall remained posed while staring straight at the blond man. Ears standing up, they were more distinguishable than when pressed low against his head.

Seifer blinked several times, eventually noticing the playful swaying of the dark brown tail behind Leonhart's back. "What are you doing?" he questioned slowly, noting how the tail stopped swaying and just froze in midair. "Go away." After several moments of waiting for the brunet to scamper off, the tail began to go again.

Words were futile, so Seifer wondered if he ought to try and express himself in some other way. As it was, he didn't enjoy dealing with the former commander even when the guy was normal, or as normal as asocial pretty boys went. Now he had to deal with an even odder oddity.

"I can't even begin to list the ways in which this is weird," the blond knight spoke aloud, now feeling like he was talking to himself. "Whose science experiment are you?" It was probably the result of something the chicken-wuss had done. As much as he'd like to poke fun at Leonhart for it, he boy wouldn't understand and there was little chance it was a result of his rival's own ineptitude.

For the sake of absolute confirmation that it wasn't fake, not caring that he'd just seen the tail waving about, Seifer reached out and touched one of the ears. He almost laughed at the manner in which it twitched reflexively.

Beaming once more, a sight that was far stranger to the ex-knight than twitching ears and swaying tail, Squall abruptly moved. Hands clawing at the thin white t-shirt that was damp around his smaller frame, he attempted to be rid of the garment.

"What are you doing?" Seifer asked incredulously.

Successfully freeing an arm, the short sleeve torn on one side, Squall immediately ceased his attempts. Staring without comprehension at the blond man, the brunet waited.

"Do I need to page the fucking doctor?" Seifer muttered in thought, angrily fuming over how he had the sudden urge to help Leonhart out. At a second glance, he noticed that the boy's clothes were damp.

Mulling things over for a couple minutes, Seifer eventually settled on a solution. By helping Leonhart and putting the boy to bed, he'd be alleviated of the problem and be free to take a nap. Rolling his eyes, he gestured for the brunet to move closer. "Come here," he said.

If it had just been the shirt and shoes, Seifer wouldn't have hesitated a second time. However, when rid of the white t-shirt, Leonhart started to tug at the bulky belts around his slim waist. Seifer wasn't certain if the brunet was attempting to help in the process or inform him of what to do next.

Sighing in disbelief, Seifer began to unbuckle each belt. When it came down to pulling the pants down, he drew the line. "The rest is up to you kitten," he stated stubbornly, purposely not looking up into confused eyes.

At length, when the message became clear, the process of taking off snug leather pants found Squall wriggling on the ground. Kicking wildly, the pants eventually came off after snagging on the socks and being forced away altogether.

Hand clamped over his mouth to keep from laughing, Seifer barely managed to breath correctly. Finding his rival clad in naught but a pair of black boxer briefs helped a bit in sobering him up, especially when that very same rival attempted to climb onto his hospital bed.

"Down," the ex-knight ordered, pointing to the floor. He felt a twinge of shock when the brunet actually heeded his command. Leonhart was not only his rival, but also a ranked officer. He was still a cadet, despite being older. To have the man seeking his help in getting undressed and then listening to his orders wasn't quite the fantasy he'd imagined, not that he'd ever fantasized about helping Leonhart getting undressed.

With a frown, Seifer studied the submissive creature, wondering what had changed from the moment when the boy acted like some rabid cat. Was it because he'd hit the brunet? Was it because he could obviously dominate, despite receiving minor injuries for the effort? Glancing at the discarded clothes, he didn't exactly need to question why the boy wanted to get out of them.

When long nails tugged at the rim of the last remaining garment on Leonhart's pale body, Seifer intervened quickly. "No," he ordered, shaking his head when the brunet looked up at him.

Hand retracting from the elastic waistband, Squall sat back on his haunches and waited. Tail swaying, he stared up at the blond avidly.

"Hyne," Seifer muttered to himself. Standing up, he gestured for the brunet to follow him. Crossing the short distance between the beds, he cast aside the curtain and waved for Leonhart to get up.

Seifer stared fixedly as his rival complied, giving him a nice long look at the man's backside. It wasn't that the form fitting briefs outlined the brunet's ass in a risqué fashion, but that the waistband dipped low enough to reveal a tiny bit of the cleft between shapely cheeks. The dark brown tail that moved about rhythmically was the cause of the undergarment riding so low.

With the image forever imprinted in his memory, Seifer cursed silently before turning away. Stalking the entire three steps back to his bed, he roughly drew the curtain closed as though a solid barrier that would prevent further interruptions. Flopping down on the bed, he stubbornly resolved to take his nap in the infirmary and not be chased off.

It was a whole five minutes of unbroken silence before Seifer felt secure in actually letting himself drift back to sleep. The powder was still coursing through him, his sheer shock at Leonhart's state keeping him awake. With a stifled yawn, he contented himself to ride out the lasting effects by sleeping and to forget the entire encounter.

---

Irvine and Zell returned to the infirmary in somewhat calmed states. With coffee in their systems and Irvine in a dry set of clothing, they walked abreast from the cafeteria. Intent on checking in with Squall, they planned to then head over to the library to see how much help they could be.

Zell spotted the doctor just around the corner. The older woman's back was to them, so he called out, "Hey doc."

Stopping, Kadowaki intercepted the two SeeD as they approached. "There was an emergency in the training center. I'm afraid I haven't made any breakthroughs with Mr. Leonhart just yet."

"You didn't leave him alone, did you?" Irvine questioned warily.

"He was sound asleep when I left him," Kadowaki assured.

Zell's eyes widened. "He would have woken up by now," the spiky haired blond announced before dashing forward towards the automated door. Fearing what he might find inside, he was most afraid of finding that Squall had left.

"Really? Is he that resistant to sleep spells?" the doctor called out after the blond boxer. She hadn't been gone more than fifteen minutes. Sleep spells were roughly five times more potent than sleeping powder, which could knock a person out for up to half a day.

"He's that resistant to everything," Irvine informed, lengthening his stride to catch up with Zell. "One of us should have stayed with him," he said in reprimand, more so of his own casual attitude than anyone else's.

"I know," Zell called back, blaming himself since he'd been the one that didn't need to change his clothes and because he was useless in the library.

No sooner had the door opened, jolting back and forth as each form passed through, than Irvine declared, "The curtain's open."

With a sneaking suspicion, Dr. Kadowaki pushed the portioning curtain of Mr. Almasy's bed back. Regretting her actions suddenly, thinking she should have simply peeked in first, the older woman cringed while observing the two young SeeDs reactions.

Seifer slept unaware of the sudden activity within the infirmary. Likewise, the very scantily clad and content kitten against his chest breathed deeply in the grips of slumber.

Stunned, Irvine and Zell weren't sure they could recite their own names at the moment. Their eyes traveled from Squall's unoccupied bed of torn sheets, to the strewn clothing, to the sleeping couple.

All at once, all the wrong conclusions were made. With blood on the bed the pair currently occupied, it would seem as though a struggling Squall had put up a good fight but had been brutally taken by the ex-knight.

Zell's youthful face contorted in anger. Raising his gloved fists, he cracked his knuckles. "Let me have a go at him first. You can finish him off with Exeter," the spiky haired boxer commented lowly.

"Okay, but let me put a couple poisoned bullets in him first. No place vital, just his legs," Irvine drawled slowly.

Wide eyed, Dr. Kadowaki quickly spoke up, "Now wait just a moment you two. Innocent until proven guilty." Though she wasn't quite sure what they suspected Mr. Almasy of.

"The evidence speaks for itself doc," Irvine informed with a curt nod of his head to each pointing factor.

Hands on her hips, the older woman firmly asserted, "This is my ward and I will not have you two starting anything in it. Now settle down before I make you leave."

Extracting a smelling salt from a pocket on her long white coat, Kadowaki moved to once more waken the ex-knight from a medicinally induced slumber.

Jerking away from the offending scent, Seifer grumbled his complaint. "Hyne doc, give me a while longer to work the powder off. Missing a lecture or two isn't gonna kill me."

"No," the older woman agreed. "But a couple of over protective friends might."

Blinking, Seifer yawned and attempted to shake the lethargy in his body. It was another moment before jade-green eyes widened at the sight of furry ears and head of chestnut hair contently resting against his chest.

Gaze narrowing, the ex-knight shot from his place, upsetting the freak of nature. "What the hell!?" he yelled, successfully wiping away the startled expression on Leonhart's face and causing it to be replaced with something akin to dejection. Seifer held the rest of his agitated anger back when pointy ears flattened against tufts of wayward hair, signaling that Leonhart knew he'd done something wrong.

Pointing to towards the other bed, Seifer directed, "Over there." His tone was less edgy, though his annoyance only mounted when he felt guilty for yelling in the first place. Since when did he feel badly about treating Leonhart badly?

In an awing display of obedient submission, Squall started to crawl over the blond man, intent on going in the general direction indicated.

"What in Hyne's name have you done to him?" Zell cried, rushing closer.

A low growl erupted from Squall's elegant throat while his nearly nude body froze in place. Stormy blue eyes narrowed in a threatening manner.

"I didn't do jack shit, chicken-wuss," Seifer announced. His eyes inadvertently cast a glance at the angry kitten, the rabies kicking in once more. Presented with an up close version of Leonhart's ass, he looked away a little too slowly to sooth his strictly heterosexual pride. Pointedly not glancing south of the border, he scrambled to get up and away before he became a scratching post once more.

Hands held aloft as if in surrender, Zell backed off. "Squall," he called. "Hey man, it's me 'n Irvine."

"It's the rabies," Seifer informed tersely. "I always knew Leonhart was fucked up, but this is more than I imagined." Running a hand through golden blond strands of hair, the ex-knight made to stalk past the commander's two bodyguards.

"What happened here Mr. Almasy?" Dr. Kadowaki questioned.

"My nap was interrupted, that's what happened," Seifer grumbled. "If you get Leonhart back to normal, tell him he owes me."

"Not so fast," Irvine drawled, leveling Exeter at the cocky blond cadet.

"Irvine!" Zell shouted in warning.

Irvine was tackled to the ground, a hostile Squall atop the gunman's lanky form, mouth gnawing uselessly on the barrel of the shotgun.

"Zell, cast sleep again," Irvine called, wrestling with the smaller man in an attempt to free his precious gun.

"Morons," Seifer muttered. Striding towards the struggling duo, he calmly reached out and grabbed a fistful of lengthy hair. Yanking Leonhart back he rolled his eyes at how ridiculous actual SeeD reacted to being attacked.

"Hey!" Zell protested. "That's the commander!"

"Pipe down, chicken-wuss," Seifer returned, smirking at the way the other blond's face went red with anger. "I'm sorry," he apologized mockingly, releasing Leonhart from his hold. "I meant, Dincht." He wondered if he should point out that it was the second time he'd insulted the spiky blond.

"Like hell you did!" Zell raged, fists rising as he prepared to fight the ex-knight.

Laughing, Seifer refrained from making any further comments that would lead to his immediate expulsion. "Settle down, or you'll set Squally-boy off again," he spoke smoothly, smirking when the short fighter realized the truth to his words. He loved being right, especially when he could rub it in.

Crouched low, hand gently rubbing at his head, Squall remained glued to one of the ex-knight's legs. With the increasing commotion, his tail stiffened, wrapping around the leg he leaned against like a vine.

"Mr. Almasy," Dr. Kadowaki spoke up, observing the radical difference in the commander's behavior. "It would seem Commander Leonhart is only docile towards yourself. Would you please explain what happened after I left?"

Glaring down at the top of Leonhart's head, Seifer attempted to step away from the clinging cat. Upsetting the brunet's balance, he only succeeded in having sharp nails dig into the fabric of his slate grey pants. Scoffing, the ex-knight explained, "He wasn't so docile towards me when he first woke up. Since this obviously isn't _Leonhart_, I managed to put him in his place."

"If you hurt the commander," Irvine began in warning, finger twitch near the trigger of his gun.

"Relax," Seifer said with exasperation. "You people act like he's made of fucking glass."

"In any case," Kadowaki spoke up once more, sensing that hostilities would show face at any moment. "Mr. Almasy, it seems I can make use of you, so I'll ask you stay a while longer. Mr. Kinneas, Mr. Dincht, please find some use of yourselves in the library."

"What!?" Zell cried in outrage.

Stern gaze narrowing, the doctor leveled the pair of young SeeD with an unwavering stare. "Research blue magic pertaining to both physical and mental transfiguration, and anything else you feel might be helpful."

With a defeated, 'Yes ma'am,' Zell and Irvine took their very reluctant leave.

---

Seifer ushered a cloaked figure into a darkened dorm room. With dangerous hands gripping his arm, he aided in Leonhart's two-legged journey from the infirmary.

"Why are _you_ the one keeping an eye on him?" Irvine complained as the rest of them filed into Squall's private quarters.

"I'm not exactly jumping for joy Kinneas," Seifer reminded with a grunt.

"Don't do anything weird man," Zell asserted. "We'll be checking in randomly."

"What the hell would I be doing?" Seifer bit out angrily.

"We found him in bed with you before, without his clothes on," the blond boxer reminded heatedly.

"Hyne, you people get on my fucking nerves," the ex-knight muttered to himself, loud enough for the others to hear. Roughly, he yanked the gunman's trench coat from atop Leonhart's head, almost unable to get it off completely when the kitten reacted by pressing up against him.

Selphie and Quistis were the last two to join the group. Quistis felt along the wall for the light switch, eventually giving illumination to the standard issue dorm room for all commanding officers.

"Seifer," the head instructor spoke casually. "Please look after him. It's an unfortunate predicament that none of us wanted. However, we'll all be trying our best to fix it. We'd greatly appreciate it if you could give us a hand."

Smiling cockily, Seifer gave an approving nod. "Well said Trepe. Now if the rest of you could just follow her example and show me the same courtesy, I might be inclined to treat the kitten right."

"Seifer," Quistis spoke in a more stern tone. "While no one's asking you to hold his hand or spoon feed him, keep in mind that regardless of the circumstances Squall is still your commander. There is also the possibility than anything you do to him will be retained in his memory once we fix this."

Jade-green eyes widened ever so slightly. Seifer hadn't considered that much.

With a small smirk, Quistis gave a subtle nod of approval, assured that she'd gotten her point across.

---

Resigned to his ill fate, Seifer tried to be as optimistic about his predicament as possible. Unable to figure out exactly why Leonhart had taken a liking to him, he'd literally been forced into caring for the freak with a gun pointed at his head. Currently gathering a few essentials from his doubles dorm room, he figured he'd at least have the benefit of using the commander's private quarters however he saw fit.

The down side seemed to greatly outweigh any positive aspect he could conjure, leaving Seifer in a foul mood as he stalked back to Leonhart's place with a duffel bag of clothes. He wondered whether he should find a camera and use this situation as blackmail at a later point in time.

With a borrowed keycard, he entered the ridiculously tidy dorm room. With a sitting area that might have passed as a living room if there had been a television, a kitchen nook, and a bedroom with a small bathroom leading off of it, Leonhart's place was like an oasis compared to the small place he had to share with some newbie cadet. It was rather like an apartment.

Jade-green eyes scoured the premise in search of the kitten. "Hey," he called out, wondering how much trouble Leonhart could have gotten into in his ten-minute absence.

Muttering darkly about not having come back to garden after the war to become a babysitter, Seifer tossed his bag to the couch and stalked towards the bedroom. When the door slid open to admit him, he knew he was on the right track.

Eyes scanning the dark, windowless room, he easily found what he was looking for in the form of a curled lump on the bed. Feeling along the wall, he found the light switch. With a push of a button, the small room was lit up and Seifer was hastily presented with a decidedly excited response from Leonhart.

Tail swaying playfully and ears perked up, Squall sat expectantly on the bed.

Quirking a brow, Seifer regarded the overeager boy with a dubious gaze. "I think I liked it better when you ignored me," he commented.

With a heavy sigh, Seifer fought the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. Realizing that Leonhart's habit of doing that was likely born of babysitting the band of do-gooders on a daily basis.

Gesturing for the brunet to come to him, Seifer watched as the boy quickly padded over to him on two feet. "So you can walk," he observed aloud. Figuring the whole four-legged deal had been instinctual, he was amused to find the boy now mimicking his stance. "Monkey see, monkey do," he murmured.

There was slight relief in knowing he wouldn't have trouble teaching the younger man the basics, especially if this little alteration in Leonhart became a more long term deal. Naturally, there were a few things that he needed to do right off the bat.

"Come on," Seifer said. "I'll show you how to take a piss."

TBC…

A/N I'm not sure how many chapters this'll be. Maybe five. The third one is in progress, and I'll post the second one real soon. I guess it was too ambitious for a one-shot, and I simply can't avoid detail.


	2. Chapter 2

**Warning:** Mildly graphic scene and general fluffiness abound. And watch out for typos and general errors, they're dangerous and an accident this author never meant to unleash.

Somatic Memory

Part II

Seifer stalked away angrily after locking the bathroom door. Easy to open from either side if the person knew which button to press, he was assured that Leonhart would be forced to take a damn shower. He'd spent a good half hour forcing the brunet under the water's spray. Finally taming the less than enthused kitty, the boy understood enough to stay in place. He left after miming how to wash oneself, refusing to be some fucking nanny to a two year old and actually wash the commander down.

It hadn't even been an entire twenty-four hours with Leonhart and he felt like the biggest idiot after showing the inept brunet how to eat, how to sleep, how to dress, and most recently how to shower. It was ridiculous and he doubt he'd ever forgive Kinneas, Tilmitt, and Dincht for invariably putting him in such a situation.

Checking his watch, Seifer decided that he had time to go to the cafeteria and hang out with Raijin and Fujin for a few minutes. The odds of Leonhart actually figuring out what he'd meant to be done with the shampoo and soap were slim, so a squat under the water was good enough.

It was a short jog to the cafeteria, and Seifer was lucky to just make it in time for breakfast. Failing to get the lunch lady to give him two meals, he settled for giving Leonhart his serving of milk. Maybe there was a can of tuna in the commander's little kitchen. He knew enough to not feed Leonhart actual cat food, since the repercussions of being caught would certainly outweigh his amusement.

"Seifer," Raijin greeted as the blond man sat down at the table with himself and Fujin.

"ABSENT," Fujin remarked.

"Yeah, I know," Seifer returned. "For once I have a decent excuse and now I'd rather be going to class."

"Whoa man," Raijin commented, dark eyes wide in surprise. "You were legitimately ditching? That's like not possible, ya know?"

Rolling his eyes, Seifer kindly informed, "This is the last fucking semester I spend trying to take the damn exam. I'm not screwing it up for nothing."

"Then let's hear it, ya know?" Raijin managed to say with a mouthful of cornflakes.

"I'm babysitting Leonhart until his genius friends can figure out how to reverse what they did to him," Seifer explained in one go.

When Fujin's single visible brow rose, neither man could tell if she was expressing surprise or skepticism.

Torn between asking how in Hyne's name Seifer had been nominated as Leonhart's caretaker and what was actually wrong with the commander, Raijin scratched his chin instead. "Like, why?" he eventually questioned.

"Why what?" Seifer returned with a reproachful glance.

"Umm," Raijin intoned at a loss. "Why are you the one doing the babysitting, ya know?"

Scoffing, Seifer informed, "I haven't a clue. Dr. Kadowaki asked me to, and Trepe all but threatened my expulsion if I refused."

"SICK?" Fujin questioned, referring the condition the commander was in.

"An accident with blue magic," the blond supplied. "Let's talk about something else. If I have to deal with the guy every hour of the day, I'd like at least a little time to myself."

Reluctant to comply, Raijin eventually gave an agreeing nod with the promise of gleaning more information later. "Tanya was sure missing you, wondering if you were sick and if she should nurse you back to health," he informed with a smirk. He practically snorted with laughter into his cereal bowl at the stunned regret on Seifer's face.

"Tanya with the double Ds," Seifer groaned with longing. "I thought she was playing hard to get."

Fujin began chuckling stiffly. With a knowing gleam in her red eye, she said, "BOYFRIEND."

Nodding, Raijin elaborated, "Her boyfriend is in the same class as us. It's a little hard to flirt when he's sitting right there. But, she wanted me to specifically tell you that she's free to see other people now."

Letting out a longing sigh, Seifer shook his fist to express his discontent. "Women get kinky when they're on the rebound," he said, eyes subtly scouring the rest of the cafeteria in the hopes of finding Tanya right then.

"Well her offer still stands," Raijin assured. "She came by like ten minutes ago. That's kind of desperate, ya know?"

"Desperate can be good," Seifer assured. "Where'd she go?"

Raijin spoke above Fujin's laughter. "Her dorm room," he said, awkwardly reaching into his pocket before handing off a piece of paper.

"What's this?" Seifer questioned as he took it.

"Like I said, she must be desperate," the dark haired man returned. "That's the code to her room, no keycard necessary."

"I knew she couldn't resist me," Seifer said with an arrogant grin, holding the piece of paper victoriously.

---

Seifer reclined on a bed within the women's dormitory. With two hot blondes contently resting on either side of him, he wallowed in the euphoric aftermath of bedding not just one big-breasted bombshell, but two big-breasted bombshells. That was almost enough cleavage to overcrowd the bed. Tanya had a roommate, and he must have been doing something right, because little miss Leslie had wanted in on the action. Believing himself to be Hyne's gift to women at the moment, he smiled with an arrogance that was born of unwavering confidence.

"Mmm," the blonde roommate intoned happily. Lazily shifting from her place, she sat up. "I wish I didn't have to go."

Chuckling, Tanya raked her acrylic nails across the washboard abs of the ex-knight. "Now he's all mine," she jibed with a sated smile.

Seifer watched lecherously as one naked woman walked away, the sway to her hips obviously for his own pleasure. Chuckling inwardly, he decided that things could become real nice if he dated Tanya and made frequent visits to her place, where a threesome would likely reoccur.

On the verge of falling asleep, Seifer was jolted from his relaxed state by a piercing screech. Out of bed, he was going in the general direction of where the trouble was in a matter of seconds.

A disgruntle young woman stalked out of the bathroom. "Sorry," Leslie apologized, smiling widely at the sight of the ex-knight's bared body, knowing he'd rushed to check on her. "It's nothing."

Raising his brows in question, Seifer dismissed it as a case of a spotted spider.

"Seifer," Tanya called, leaning against the wall beside the bedroom door. "Come back to bed."

"Tanya, I think they limited the hot water again," Leslie announced. "I'm going to have to take a cold shower."

"Again?" Tanya complained. "Hyne, how long does it take to replace the heaters in this place?"

Jade-green eyes widened as Seifer suddenly remembered the kitten he was supposed to be looking after. "Shit," he cursed, quickly backtracking into the bedroom. Snatching at strewn clothes that had been torn heatedly from his body, he dressed in record timing.

With a whining complaint, Tanya questioned, "Where are you going?"

"We could take shower together," Leslie offered. "It wouldn't be cold then."

Gritting his teeth as he forced himself not to succumb to the particular calls of his libido, Seifer concluded that he could always come back another time. "We'll pick this up another time ladies," he spoke in parting, cursing inwardly as he made a hasty exit.

Back once more at the commander's little apartment, Seifer practically held his breath as he entered. Hoping against hope that no one had come by to check in, he was graced by Hyne once more that day. Perhaps it was simply retribution for his initial stroke of bad luck.

Figuring the worst he had to deal with was a stir crazy cat-boy that had made a bed out of the supply of towels in the bathroom, Seifer was calm enough when pressing the release on the bathroom's door and walking in.

The sound of running water wasn't surprising, since he could hardly expect Leonhart to know how to turn the tap off. The air itself felt chilled, the cold spray obviously having gone for some time. A glance at his watch informed him that he'd been gone a little more than an hour.

Not seeing his charge upon first glance around the small bathroom, he immediately assumed the boy had figured the way out. It was the sound of a soft whimper that drew him back inside just as he was leaving.

Stricken with a sudden fear that seemed to jolt through him unexpectedly, he threw aside the shower curtain. Disbelief kept Seifer from registering anything else at first, though concern and guilt weren't far behind.

Shivering helplessly, a sodden Leonhart huddled at the bottom of the shower. With a spray of icy water wide enough to encompass the entire area of the square shaped washing area, there was no escaping the source of coldness, beyond getting out of the shower altogether.

"Leonhart," Seifer called, turning the water off. A wave of dread ran through him at the confirming feel of cold water that any sane person wouldn't stand under for more than a couple minutes.

Dropping to his knees, Seifer regarded the huddled form that didn't even seem to realize his presence. "Hey," he practically cooed, still receiving no response as the brunet simply continued to shiver ceaselessly.

Reaching out, he placed a hand against dripping hair, darkened by the water and frighteningly cold to the touch. "Fucking Hyne," he spoke, wondering how long a person could survive while hypothermic.

Head raising for the first time, Seifer was treated to the sight of flattened ears and disoriented eyes peering at him beyond streaming tears.

Slow to react with his guilt and overwhelming concern for someone he'd never previously given much thought to outside of battle, Seifer reacted involuntarily. Lurching forward, he gathered the shaking man to himself, panicking at the sudden chill that swept over his own body.

"Hyne," he murmured, dragging Leonhart out of the shower. He was forced to carry the boy when that lithe body seemed incapable of unfurling, stubborn in its need to contain whatever traces of vital heat remained.

"It's okay," he said, forgetting that soothing words meant little when he was the only one who understood anything. "Idiot," he accused, as his emotions seemed to turn in all directions. "Who the fuck stays in place? When I first put you under, you kept trying to get out!"

Seifer cut his stream of reprimands short when the vulnerable form in his arms whimpered in response, obviously picking up on the anger in his tone.

"Dammit!" he cursed one last time, having to put a stopper in his rant, even if he needed an outlet at the moment.

Setting his load down on the bed, he tore the covers down. Choosing a different target of his anger, he muttered quietly, "Fucking cheap ass place that can't have more than five minutes of hot water at a time like this."

With nothing that could be done but to raise Leonhart's body temperature, he ran back into the bathroom and grabbed a couple of nearby towels. Returning, he quickly stripped out of his clothes and climbed into the bed. He drew the younger man close before covering them both with the blanket. With the towels, he set about drying wet hair that would only counteract his attempts to increase body temperature.

Frantic and rushed, Seifer was a bit rough in his task. When the brunet tried to shy away from him despite the fact that he was the greatest source of heat, he realized he was upsetting the boy further. He tried to be gentler in consideration for the triangular cat ears that were likely pained by any touch in a near numb state.

Recalling that his parting words had been a shouted command and unmistakable gesture for the brunet to stay put, Seifer was hit with more guilt than someone of his nature generally felt in a lifetime. "Why would you listen to me?" he questioned.

Satisfied enough with simply damp hair, Seifer cast aside the towel. "Come here," he said, drawing the boy closer once more. In a struggle to unclasp the arms folded against a shivering body, he forced Leonhart to embrace him so that his own heat could transfer directly to the most vital place.

Seeming to understand after a moment, the freezing brunet seemed to compromise by enfolding shaking arms around the broad ex-knight's body instead. With the first feeling of warmth setting in, those arms tightened their hold as Squall latched on and tried to furl as close as possible.

Seifer forced himself to deal with it, his own body wanting to shy from the cold. Adjusting the covers to tuck around them and draw right up over Leonhart's head, he settled in with the belief that it wasn't too late to simply apply body heat.

---

For the second time in as many days, Seifer found himself lying in bed with a very much naked Leonhart. It was warm beneath the covers and he was greatly relieved to note that much of that warmth was coming from the smaller man's body.

Rested enough, the blond found himself biding his time simply watching the sleeping creature in his arms. He wasn't sure whether to think of Leonhart as human or not. Beyond the big pointy ears and the long tail, the brunet remained seemingly human. The nails weren't much different than the sets on some of the women he'd known, and the teeth weren't visible most of the time. The oval shaped pupils were pretty weird, but surprisingly not very noticeable.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, a rare apology for someone who never believed himself to be wrong.

Ear twitching, settling low against drying tufts of tangled hair, a small yawn seemed to announce Squall's oblivious content at the moment. With periodic tremors, the brunet simply sunk deeper into the embrace and calmed again.

Chuckling quietly, Seifer conceded that Leonhart was perhaps a little bit cute at the moment. While completely baffled by the idea that his rival could be cute, he figured that kittens had a universal appeal.

"I don't think you need my body anymore," the ex-knight commented as the boy nudged up under his chin. "Are you even sleeping?" he questioned, eyes peering down and spotting movement beneath the blanket, which was obviously a playful tail.

Pulling back, Seifer gazed into wakened stormy blue eyes. He felt another wave of guilt

at the sight of dried tears staining pale cheeks. Having hoped it had just been the water, he gave a frustrated sigh before cradling the back of the brunet's head and directing it to pressed against his collar.

Awkwardly intimate, Seifer chose to ignore that tidbit and comfort his still entirely heterosexual preference by assuring himself that at the moment, it was like holding an animal.

Squirming a bit, Squall eventually settled down once more.

---

"Everything appears in order," Dr. Kadowaki said as she set her stethoscope around her neck.

"Perfect order if being part cat is normal," Seifer grumbled in annoyance. "How much longer is it going to take?" It had already been a week.

"Come now Mr. Almasy. Shouldn't you be celebrating your success in the SeeD exam?"

Green eyes narrowed in remembrance of the auspicious day. It had taken an hour to calm his perceptive pet down and let him leave the apartment. The after party hadn't gone nearly as planned. What should have consisted of hanging out with Raijin and Fujin, and later sleeping with Tanya and Leslie, had ended up as a night alone with a clinging Leonhart.

"I'll celebrate when I'm actually on active duty and can do something without the bloody commander trying to climb all over me," the blond bit out.

"He's just friendly," Kadowaki assured, eyeing the manner in which Mr. Leonhart unabashedly hugged the ex-knight's arm as though a young toddler refusing to let go of his mother.

Gazing at the woman sardonically, Seifer informed, "He sleeps with me, he showers with me, and now he knows how to open the doors."

Laughing it off, the older woman straightened up. It was reassuring to know that the ex-knight was taking closely monitored care of the commander. "We're making promising headway. Miss Tilmitt has been practicing blue magic around the clock. If anything, we'll be able to fix the commander's mentality in a matter of days." Moving away, she walked out of sight to her desk.

"'Soon,' she says," Seifer muttered, directing his focus to the inexplicably happy brunet at his side. "What are you smiling about?" he queried, a small smirk of his own forming when the boy's tail reacted to the sound of his voice.

"Seifer," Squall spoke with glee, eyes alight with expectant excitement.

Seifer hesitated a moment to confirm the doctor's absence. Tackling Leonhart to the bed, he proceeded to tickle the boy mercilessly. Unrestrained laughter came while the lithe figure squirmed about in the mayhem of joyous torture.

The kitten had managed to mimic a few choice words from him, his name being among them. He didn't think that the brunet grasped the concept that he was called 'Seifer', though he was to blame for that. Somehow linking together the name with the being tickled, it was now said with the intention to make him start poking and prodding in places that drove most people wild with laughter. Unable to correct the boy's learning, he caved each time his name was spoken.

"What on earth," Dr. Kadowaki said as she approached, greatly shocked at the sight presented to her.

Stopping abruptly, Seifer hastily climbed off the bed, only to have his back burdened when Leonhart promptly jumped on him. Unable to deny that he'd indeed been playing with the boy, he acted like it weren't at all abnormal. Leaning to the side, he slid his charge down off his back.

Standing on his own, Squall beamed merrily. "Milk," he said in request.

Clearing his throat, Seifer returned, "When we get back." Picking up the ball cap on the edge of the mattress, he held it up and waited for Leonhart to obediently flatten those ears. Once the hat was in place, he reached around back and lifted the loose grey t-shirt for the tail to hide beneath.

Giving the former knight a scrutinizing look, the doctor said, "You poor dear. What a terrible time you seem to be having."

"I don't appreciate the sarcasm," Seifer quipped.

Stalking away, his kitten swiftly latching onto his arm and following, Seifer made for the door.

"Mr. Almasy," Dr. Kadowaki called out. "I never expected to have to say this, but don't become overly attached. There's more than a good chance that when we fix this, your relationship with Commander Leonhart will resume its previous course."

"The course where we try to kill each other?" Seifer questioned rhetorically.

Drawing the blond man's attention, Squall nipped at the arm in his hold, teeth tugging and threatening to put a hole in the sleeve of the forest green shirt.

"Hey," Seifer chastised, reaching out with his free hand and adjusting the hat so it road so low that stormy eyes would be covered. Lying to himself and the doctor, he assured, "Don't worry. I'll be relieved when it's over."

---

Seifer settled into bed with Leonhart. He was rather disturbed about how the arrangement had developed with such ease. With more than a sneaking suspicion that the strange attachment had been born of his ability to settle the frightened creature down, even if it had taken force, the ex-knight was mildly content to picture the aghast faces of all of the commander's friends in his head.

Even tamed and entirely harmless in his arms, Leonhart did not react kindly to others. Each time Kadowaki examined the brunet, it was only because he gave explicit orders for good behavior. The power he held over his rival was somewhat enthralling. The downside was the fact that he was simultaneously powerless to abuse to his power.

In the darkened bedroom, green eyes watched as the kitten drifted off. He found great pleasure in letting his breath ghost over a soft ear, causing it to twitch. If he did it enough times, a small sound of protest would unintelligibly tell him to stop, and if he persisted in his mischief then teeth would nip at him.

Chuckling at the quiet protesting whine that came, he continued his teasing until the glistening sight of lengthy canines were bared and sunk into loose collar of his t-shirt. "You're awake," he accused, smiling despite himself when Leonhart started laughing, not releasing the mouthful of his shirt.

When the bit of his shirt was released as a wide yawn overtook the brunet, Seifer shifted slightly and relented to stop his teasing. Reaching up he scratched at the ears in a show that he was done having his senseless fun.

---

After a full week of celibacy, finding out the hard way that watching over Leonhart was a fulltime job, Seifer was having one of the wettest dreams since his balls had first dropped. Warmth and friction concentrated at his groin while fractured images of what his body desired played through his head.

It was both startling and arousing to have his dream slowly alter from heads of blonde hair and jiggling breasts to a single head of unmannered chestnut tufts and a flat chest of firm muscle. In a dream, it hardly mattered what the fantasy was, especially when he actually felt like he was close to getting off on it.

Rocking his hips, he quite enjoyed the realistic feel to his dream. He was so close. There was a sense of arousing domination to it, which was what eventually sent him crashing over the edge.

On some plain between being awake and being asleep, Seifer's orgasm shuddered through him with an unexpected realism that was sharper than if he were just receiving a morning wood. The experience wasn't wholly unknown to him. He'd often gone to bed with someone and woke up after having just screwed them once more. Afterwards, a soft voice would coo that he was amazing and one last round before the sun came up was irresistible, which was always the reason for the heightened sense of realism to the dream.

Slowly, through the daze of lust and the veil of sleep, Seifer began to register that something was amiss. Eventually, when he cared enough to leave his blissful haven behind, he peered out from behind sleepy lids.

Seifer's eyes widened immediately as he gazed directly into fearful stormy blue orbs. His shirt once more in the boy's mouth, apparently a favored way of drawing his attention, it bared many holes, torn beyond repair.

Swallowing thickly, Seifer flexed his hand and relented his bruising grasp that bound thin wrists above the head of the boy he had pinned beneath him. Dreading the inevitable look beneath the covers, he carefully climbed off the stiff body.

"Dammit!" the ex-knight cursed, realizing his blunder all too late to make it forgivable.

With a sudden anger at the innocent kitten that hadn't done anything but be affectionate, which had subsequently lead to such a situation, Seifer clambered off the bed and stalked to the bathroom. He was too angry to be thankful that his fucking hump fest hadn't gone beyond simply gyrating against the brunet.

Cleaning himself up and changing his boxers, the blond returned to the bedroom with the intention of finding a spare blanket and bunking on the couch. He should have put his foot down about not sleeping together. He should have rejected the brunet's persistence in secretly crawling near him while asleep.

Seifer was surprised to return and find the curled up form of Leonhart shaking subtly. In the dark, it was easy to conclude that the boy was crying. Feeling more than a little responsible, he gently knelt on the mattress and shook a narrow shoulder.

"Hey," he spoke to capture the brunet's attention. Wishing he could explain the meaning behind what he'd done, his frustration was greater when realizing he didn't even have the disposition to apologize. It had been a mistake, a regrettable but entirely understandable mistake. Since first losing his virginity at fourteen, any sleeping bodies within the proximity of his own bed had always been women he'd earned the consensual passage to have sex with.

With a small whimper, Squall turned over, gazing up with watery eyes. Looking to the hovering man for help, he awaited whatever came next.

Frowning, Seifer wondered if he'd hurt Leonhart. He was shamed further by realizing that while his shirt was torn, the boy hadn't even fought back enough to do him any harm. Knowing that made him feel like the biggest jerk in the world.

"I'm sorry," the blond said, the phrase growing far more common as of late. "What's wrong?" he questioned, sitting down and setting a hand against dark hair. Half wondering if the kitten were simply too frightened to do anything but curl up and cry, he stroked silky tresses, fingers nimbly rubbing flattened ears.

Kindness was not Seifer's specialty. In fact, he'd never admit to being kind unless under the threat of castration. His entire homestead at the commander's place was top secret, and the truth of how he treated the kitten was something only he and the little crybaby knew about. Assuming Leonhart's memory was going to be wiped once the whole cat transfiguration thing was taken care of, then it would be his secret alone.

Recalling that he'd been holding the boy's wrists, he reached down and grasped one gently. Hardly surprised at the complacency in which Leonhart allowed him to do whatever he liked, he examined the seemingly delicate area.

"No bruising," he murmured softly, his other hand still stroking the boy in a petting manner. He did feel bad about the incident, worse yet at the continued state of distress Leonhart was in.

Whimpering, Squall retracted the hand in the blond's hold. Nails scratching at the hem of his over sized t-shirt, he lifted it up in indication of his ailment.

Eyes widening, Seifer stared with incredulity at the bulge in Leonhart's flannel pants. It was a long moment before his mind seemed able to fully comprehend the problem.

"Oh," the ex-knight intoned to announce his delayed understanding. "I didn't see that one coming."

Tentatively touching himself, Squall's mouth fell open with another whimper. His eyes silently pleaded for his caretaker to fix it. The underlying fear present in stormy blue eyes suggested that there was too much fear and uncertainty for there to be any pleasure.

Seifer was only able to take another minute of watching the needy boy squirm. Drawing the curled form to himself, half resting in his lap, he calmed Leonhart by gently scratching at the base of soft ears.

Knowing he had the brunet's unconditional trust, learning that when he'd managed to coerce the boy into the shower after his initial hypothermic blunder, Seifer was still cautious as he slid a hand beneath the waist band of loose pajama bottoms.

Meeting the tip of the younger man's arousal, he quieted his protesting heterosexual qualms by reminding himself that this was his responsibility. As his fingers slid down the hardened shaft, he could already tell the engorged organ was slender than his own, something not always telltale when seeing it on a peripheral glance in the shower.

Jolting in his reclined placement and giving off a keening sound between approval and fright, Squall huddled closer to Seifer. With fingers grasping at the ex-knight's hand invading his pants and his other arm hugging the larger man's waist, the signals to stop and continue clashed.

"It's okay," Seifer soothed quietly, fearful that if the thrashing boy continued to rub against his groin too much, there would be a repeat of having to change his boxers.

In a firm stroke, Seifer proceeded to jerk Leonhart off. As he thought that he should simply let the perceptive boy pick up from there with the general idea of what to do, the notion was driven from his mind when a pleasured cry seemed to echo through the room.

With his expectations for salvation being fulfilled beyond simple relief, Squall's hips bucked into the pumping hand. Nails raking across the man's chest, dragging the shirt down and threatening to claw tears in it, he cried out with blind need.

"You're a fucking screamer," Seifer commented, wondering if the walls were sound proof.

Stroke after stroke, the ex-knight showed Leonhart what physical pleasure was. Getting into it, knowing from experience what felt best, he altered the pressure of his grip and swiped his thumb across the leaking head every so often.

Writhing in ecstasy, shuddering at each stroke, and keening with orgasmic abandon, Squall was driven insane by the experience. Going taut as a wire, arching wildly, he finally came into the calloused hand in his pants.

Seifer watched in awed silence, not even sure where to begin on what he'd just done. The bulge of his own erection, the mushroomed head poking through the front of his boxers, confirmed what his mind refused to acknowledge. While he could write it off as the stimulation of the squirming body against his groin, he'd eventually accept the truth that bringing his rival off had been what aroused him.

Extracting his hand covered in the sticky mess of Leonhart's release, Seifer let the sound of spent panting fill his ears. The hand that absently pet tousled strands of dark chestnut hair left its perch and covered his mouth in an outward gesture of what he felt inside.

"Holy fuck," he muttered, the curse muffled by his hand, the dismissed notions of proper conduct coming back to squash out any conclusions that his actions had been necessary.

Dazed grey-blue eyes looked around before finding focus on the hand covered in a milky substance that seemed recognizable. Lazily touching the blond's hand, it was a quick assessment that the fluid was not milk. Sniffing at the bitter release, his tongue darted out to test a sample.

Seifer broke out into laughter at the cringing face Leonhart pulled, repulsed by the heavy flavor of semen. Shaking his head, he made a show of wiping the fluid on the bed sheet, as if teaching the boy that cum wasn't for consumption.

His amusement fleeting, Seifer gave a gruff sigh. He determined that he'd have to address this incident properly. The question was how.

TBC…

A/N Halloween is over, so sad. I think it might be my favorite time of the year. Anyway, this entire story is definitely sickeningly fluffy and soon to be smutty. I guess it's kind of like a withdrawal fix for Defining Love. So, if you've withstood the fluff so far, rest assured Squall will be back to normal and general fluffiness effectively killed off.


	3. Chapter 3

**Warning: **Yaoi lemon in this part, entirely unavoidable and totally not suited for young readers (anyone under 17.) Mild non-con. Excessive swearing, since I still tend to write Seifer as the type to swear as much during casual conversation as he does while having sex.

Somatic Memory

Part III

Seifer's way of addressing the issue of having sexually mauled Leonhart was not to establish clear cut ground rules or reject the innocent affection the kitten showered him with. He didn't sleep on the couch or even stop accompanying the boy in the shower. He didn't discontinue his perpetual fondling of soft ears and petting of silky hair. His solution to the incident was something a bit more radical.

Instead of sleeping alone, he accepted the touch hungry creature with open arms. Instead of being careful about which parts of the body received too much touching, he made certain those parts were touched as often as possible. Each night, his hands ghosted south of the border and he became the one to give affection, the sort of affection that resulted in Squall spurting copious amounts of fluid into his fisting hand.

The kitten seemed to become accustom to it, and he suspected that if he didn't start something every night then the younger man would likely instigate something of a similar nature to compensate. It was a dark pleasure that he didn't care to analyze beyond the delicious gratification it brought.

Again and again, he wrought noises from the commander that could nearly make him come simply from listening. After a week, Seifer had become insatiable, slowly losing his ethical battle to not fuck the boy. He'd wrap a hand around both their engorged members and mercilessly stroke while gazing down at the uninhibited creature mewling in ecstasy.

It was frighteningly addictive and disturbingly wrong. While never hurting the trusting kitten, he abused that trust with every caress. He made Leonhart come until that lithe body was worn out and unable to do anything but lay limply with flushed cheeks and lips parted to take in gasping breaths. Sated orbs of grey-blue with wide oval pupils would flutter in and out of view as heavy lids tried to stay open.

Seifer knew his time with the boy was short. Approaching the fourth week, he suddenly felt like there wasn't enough time to get what he wanted from the whole experience. He didn't even know what he wanted, at least not beyond innumerable orgasms.

He couldn't actually bring himself to have sex with Squall. There were any number of ethical reasons, and even more ego centric ones. He felt like a pedophile any time the thought crossed his mind. The kitten's mentality was like that of a child, despite having the body of an eighteen year old. It was just wrong on so many levels, but it felt so fucking good.

Beyond masturbating to the sight of pure and unadulterated lust, Seifer progressively began to take things further. He could deal with the lack of breasts, easily admiring toned pectorals and the screams that came when he tweaked each underused nipple. He surprised even himself by being able to deal with the presence of another cock, but he supposed having one all his life aided in knowing exactly what to do when presented with someone else's.

The internal battle not to actually shove his dick into the boy's tight anus was becoming more difficult each time. He was to the point where he'd finger fuck Leonhart, lubing the entrance up and thrusting his fingers in and out with slick ease. In the end, he'd simply toy with the kitten's prostate gland enough to make the room reverberate screams of ecstasy, and then he'd leave the abused hole alone. The desire to insert something beside his fingers was steadily growing, and his mind was beginning to reason that after all he'd done there was no point in holding out.

The notion that he wouldn't be gay if he didn't cross that line was also a big part of what kept him from doing it. Not usually one to deny anything, Seifer knew he was in denial of just about everything. Being aroused by the sight of another man obviously meant that it appealed to him. He wasn't sure if liking Leonhart made him bisexual or if it'd have to be a couple more guys for it reach that point.

Women turned him on, yet he didn't make any attempts to meet up with Tanya or Leslie or any other girl he could have a quickie with. The excuse that he couldn't leave the kitten's side for even a second stood up like a house of cards during an earthquake. Similarly, the excuse that he needed to use his limited time carefully was obvious bullshit when he spent painfully aroused hours exploring every bit of supple flesh on the commander's body, figuring out what drove the kitten completely mad and conditioning certain areas to respond to his touch.

Somehow he'd become so enthralled, that when Kinneas showed up one morning to inform him that Tilmitt was ready to try and reverse Leonhart's condition, he very nearly lost it. If he'd known the previous night had been the last time he could spend with the kitten, he would have done so much more. He hadn't even screwed around enough to make the boy pass out.

Wanting to hold up inside the commander's apartment and refuse to come out, Seifer knew there was no avoiding the inevitable restoration of Leonhart's icy cold demeanor. With orders to show up at the infirmary as soon as possible, he found himself seated on the couch while feverishly ravishing the boy in one final go.

As Seifer suckled every inch of pale skin along a slender and elegant neck, a contented mewling sounded and his conditioned charge arched back to give him room to work. The ex-knight didn't even care about marking pale skin, confident that he could come up with some excuse if the commander's group of bodyguards asked questions. The merry band of geniuses had pretty much stopped suspecting him of mistreating their dear idol after the first week, none the wiser to the fact that his seedy mistreatment began at that point.

"Hyne, why do I want you so fucking much?" he muttered against the boy's collar, teeth nipping and lips trailing in some pointless attempt to understand it all through his actions.

"Seifer," the brunet called, finally having some inkling of what the word meant. It pertained to the blond, but could also bring about tickling and gruff fondling that lead to mind numbing pleasure. It was a very powerful word.

"Don't call my name," the ex-knight reprimanded. It drove him mad and he couldn't stand to be driven any further towards the edge than he was.

Gasping as the man atop him ground down against his pelvis, Squall thrashed about, fingers digging into the armrest above his head. "Seifer," he called again.

"You're asking for it," Seifer growled, latching onto a pert nipple beneath the cotton t-shirt.

Having learned the general idea of how to interact when their time together took a heated turn, Squall's legs wrapped around the aggressive man above, begging for firmer contact. "Seifer," he gasped as the man ground down once more.

Seifer attacked the boy's open mouth, for once uncaring of the sharpened set of canines. He simply couldn't be satisfied and his time was up. Humming a note of pleasure as Leonhart's tongue lapped against his, he encouraged the inexperienced action by rolling his hips.

Not retreating as the coppery tang of blood joined the exchange, Seifer ignored that he'd cut himself on sharp teeth and proceeded to consume simpering noises. Leonhart's voice was soft and smooth and entirely unrestrained. It wasn't shrill or annoyingly high pitched, and it definitely wasn't exaggerated to boost his ego. While he'd always firmly believed that his partner's cries of orgasmic abandon weren't false, he knew without any doubt when it was with the kitten.

As those cries reached the rafters, he knew he wouldn't be able to hold back much longer. "What have you done to me?" he asked hopelessly, pulling back to stare into disoriented eyes that were so innocent even after all they'd done together. "I wouldn't be here if you hadn't crawled into my bed. I'll make you take responsibility," the ex-knight said.

"Seifer," came the panting reply.

Seifer stared into Leonhart's mesmerizing eyes, unable to punish such innocence. Fearing his inability to copulate with the boy was born not of his lingering sense of morality, but rather his strong feelings of care, he was greatly alarmed. Could it be he was trying to protect something precious?

With a pained expression of regret, Seifer climbed off his charge. The last thing he needed was to make a grievous mistake. He also didn't need to experience tight heat clamping around his pulsing member and truly become addicted. He couldn't stand to make it worse, preferring to wonder how good it might have been instead of finding that it was so much better than he could have imagined, only to never feel it again.

"Come on kitten, our times up," he said quietly, his solemn tone drawing the brunet's attention.

Squirming about, not knowing the man's intent was to cut their activities short, Squall ran a hand over the front of bulging jeans. Rubbing and bucking at the same time, he gave a soft whine of pleasure while gazing up into lust filled green eyes.

"One last time," Seifer immediately caved, reaching down to undo the boy's pants.

---

Seifer held his breath while the less than trustworthy Tilmitt attempted to cast a spell on Leonhart. Repeatedly telling himself that he didn't care in the least about the outcome and that it would only relieve him of a burden if things were righted, he was incapable of exhaling all the same.

With a bright flash of white light and sweeping breeze of cold air, the spell was cast and everyone but Seifer stared fixedly for any type of result.

"Squall?" Selphie questioned tentatively, feeling badly at the cowering complacency the commander showed while allowing her to cast her spell.

Ears perking up at the sound of his name, Squall opened his scrunching eyes and peered around in confusion.

Seifer stared resolutely at the ground, avoiding all eye contact with the younger man, as though not in the same room.

"Squall?" Zell called tentatively, not daring to approach. "Hey man, is that you?"

Brows furrowing, Squall gave the spiky haired boxer a doubtful look. He glanced from face to face, surrounded by the small group of people who all had the same mix of concerned hopefulness in their eyes. Seifer Almasy was the exception, leaning against the wall, farthest away while staring downcast. Settling for a moment on the blond ex-knight, Squall then noticed movement out of the corner of his eyes.

The commander was greatly disturbed to discover the likes of a long dark brown tail swaying about haphazardly. "There's a tail," he muttered, more to himself than the group around him.

It took a few more moments, but Squall eventually pieced a few things together. Staring at his hands, he observed his nails with more curiosity than fear. "It's my tail," he observed after reaching behind himself and confirming that it was indeed a part of his body. Given that it shouldn't have been a part of his body, his attention quickly returned to the group that likely knew best about why he had a tail.

It was a fraction of a second later before Squall found himself dog piled by his friends.

---

"What seems to be the problem?" Dr. Kadowaki questioned as the commander stiffly approached her desk.

"Aside from the obvious?" Squall muttered darkly, scanning the area a second time and adjusting his ball cap to ride lower.

"Miss Tilmitt is working night and day to reverse the physical properties of her spell, but she's worried sick that your mind might inadvertently revert again, so there is no rushing her." Taking her spectacles off, the older woman stood from her chair and walked around the cluttered desk. "Do I need to spend an hour coaxing you, or will you simply admit that you're here for a reason?"

"There is something wrong," Squall admitted, likewise not game for beating around the bush and spending more time in the infirmary than necessary.

"What are the symptoms?" the doctor questioned, leading the commander over to a vacant bed.

Squall waited while the older woman retrieved a small stool. When Kadowaki gave him the sign to begin, her pen in hand and clipboard stabled to write on, he sighed. "I can't sleep," he said, wishing the tip of the iceberg would make admitting the rest just a little less uncomfortable.

"I thought you looked tired. It's been three days since Miss Tilmitt managed to fix that head of yours, and you look like you've been awake four. How many hours of sleep have you gotten?"

"None," Squall muttered, rubbing his eyes as they burned to be closed.

"Considering you haven't collapsed from it, I know something else brought you here," the woman commented, entirely willing to spend an hour coaxing the young man into speaking even if she'd prefer not to.

"When I shower, the water never feels hot enough." Squall carefully worried his lip, trying to express that while it sounded ridiculous, he thought it was of importance. "I thought something might be wrong with my sensitivity to hot and cold."

Humming to herself, Kadowaki took a moment to consider it. "It may be some residual instinct, just lingering effects of a cat's mentality."

Nodding his agreement, Squall accepted the logic of such reasoning, having also considered that as a cause. He wasn't about to admit that it wasn't just the temperature but also the feeling of dread that washed over him every time he simply looked at the shower.

"Though I suspect it will clear itself up in time, Mr. Almasy might know of something else," Kadowaki stated.

"Dammit," Squall cursed, a hand flying to his head as the hat toppled off. Not having slept in three days, with more than the usual garden affairs weighing down on him, he was a bit short fused. "That's the other thing," he said darkly.

"I understand that your appearance right now must be very distressing," the older woman consoled. "Squall," she spoke informally. Reaching a hand out to grasp his, her eyes briefly scanned poorly trimmed nails.

"That's not it," the brunet snapped, pulling his hand away and roughly replacing the cap over his ears. "Every time I see Seifer, or someone even mentions his name, something happens."

Frowning, Kadowaki sat back and asked, "Could you be more specific."

Scoffing in distaste, the commander explained, "These ears shoot up and this tail won't stop moving. I can't control it." Steeling himself for a moment, he went scarlet while admitting, "I become excited."

"Excited as in giddy?" the doctor questioned slowly.

Staring at the woman incredulously, Squall replied, "Yes." What other form of excitement would he be feeling towards the ex-knight?

---

It was late. Squall lay on his stomach, too annoyed at the foreign feel of the tail to lie on his back. Head buried in a soft pillow, he tried to sleep.

He couldn't exactly say he that was annoyed by the pounding on his quarter's door, though sluggishly clambering out of bed was slightly less fun than counting each minute that ticked by. Exiting his bedroom, he picked up the pace when the pounding continued. If it was an emergency, he wasn't in prime shape to be dealing with it.

At the door, he suddenly remembered he should be wearing his hat. "Who is it?" he called out, figuring he could forgo covering up inhuman body parts if it was someone who already knew.

"Seifer, now open the hell up," the ex-knight demanded, a final thump against the door expressing further impatience.

Squall gently bit his lip, cursing as a hand clutched at his shirt over his chest. His heart was beating rapidly, among other annoying responses to the older boy's voice. "What do you want?" he questioned, not bothering to open the door first.

"I took care of your sorry ass for three fucking weeks, and you can't open a fucking door?" Seifer bit out angrily.

Gritting his teeth, Squall opened the door. All at once the blond man was upon him. "What are you doing here?" the brunet hissed coldly, backed up to the wall with the looming ex-knight before him. He didn't take kindly to intimidation, finding it brought out the most violent in him.

Seifer stared down at Leonhart. He couldn't pretend any longer, not after Dr. Kadowaki had spoken with him earlier. "You said you'd compensate me for my trouble," he reminded, a deep huskiness to his voice while his eyes gazed into wary grey-blue orbs.

Nodding hesitantly, Squall tried to keep eye contact, but broke away and stared with uncertainty at the man's chest. His heart was racing for no apparent reason. The damn tail was shifting against the confines of his pants, thankfully out of sight.

Mourning the loss of his kitten, it was almost too much for Seifer to handle. Having Leonhart before him, looking exactly the same, he wasn't confident he could temper his urges. Truthfully, he wasn't sure he wanted to.

Swallowing thickly, Squall muttered, "It's late. What do you want?"

"Don't kid yourself _Commander_, we both know you weren't sleeping," the ex-knight said, one hand finding placement on the wall behind the brunet, mere inches from the boy's pale and effeminate face.

Glaring, Squall returned his focus to jade-green eyes. "If you're looking for compensation by way of rank, then you are entirely out of order." Three weeks of making sure he hadn't torn the couch to shreds did not give the arrogant blond the right to expect anything from him.

"You know, even when you didn't know how to speak, you talked more to me than usual. I suppose it's just the fatigue speaking right now."

"…" Squall's jaw clenched and unclenched.

"I am looking to be paid for all the trouble I went through, but I don't want your money or some rank that I could earn without even trying," the blond spoke, his other hand sliding into place to box the commander in.

"You should leave," Squall said, suddenly apprehensive about what the older boy wanted.

Slowly, Seifer shook his head. "No, I quite like it here," he replied huskily.

Practically melting with the wall, Squall sunk as far back as possible. The look in the ex-knight's eyes was beyond intense, rendering him thoughtless. "Seifer," he said in warning, not knowing if throwing the man out bodily would be an overreaction.

"I think you know why I'm here," the blond spoke seductively, hinting at what he was after.

"Because you want to be expelled?" Squall questioned with cold fury, hating how the older boy was still capable of pushing his buttons after so many years of building a resistance to it.

Chuckling darkly, Seifer leaned in closer, bringing their faces level. "Kitten," he spoke deeply, "when I'm done with you, you won't let me leave."

It was suddenly clear to Seifer why he'd held out. The awareness and icy rejection in stormy blue eyes was what he'd been waiting for. He'd lost his affectionate kitten, a saddening thing indeed, but now he had Leonhart back and that set his blood on fire like nothing else. He had already tamed that body, but not that willful spirit. It was time to show Leonhart what it felt like to be taken.

Glaring fiercely, Squall attempted to be defiant despite his cowering disposition. "Leave," he hissed in warning. He didn't want to wind up throwing punches. He hadn't fought Seifer since the war ended. While he'd hoped to keep their relationship civil, he would kick the man's arrogant ass if he weren't the only person standing on that side of the doorway in five seconds.

"The doc says you've been having a little trouble," Seifer said, a small smirk playing across his lips.

"Get out," Squall reiterated.

"I came here to help," Seifer returned. Not giving the commander another chance to protest, he eliminated the remaining distance between their lips and kissed the boy roughly. Three days had been an eternity for Seifer, especially when he'd finished tripping over his heterosexual ego in the first twenty-four hours.

Making a tactical assault, Seifer's arm wound around a slim waist and pulled the brunet close. Slipping a hand beneath the loose t-shirt and trailing down beneath the waistband of baggy flannel pants, he quickly found the base of that carefully tucked away tail and massaged it. He knew the boy's body remembered when it arched closer. His other hand ran through thick, silky hair. Rubbing one of those ears, he felt that tense body melt in response.

Squall was lost. Though his hands were clenched in tight fists, ready to retaliate such shocking actions with violence, he did nothing but grasp at the man's shirt collar for some purchasing hold. The exulting moan that sounded made him wonder if someone else was there, but he quickly realized he'd been the one to make the noise.

Seifer broke away from a slick lipped commander. Staring down, he took a moment to relish the sight. Continuing to rub and gently tug at the base of the tail, he worked until pointy ears flattened in the overwhelming need for more. "That's it," he whispered, his free hand moving to cup the nape of a slender neck.

Barely capable of registering anything beyond the pleasured shivers than ran through his body, Squall gazed up in slight disorientation. "Stop," he managed to order, hands pushing at the ex-knight's solid chest.

Chuckling, Seifer dipped low, nuzzling the boy's pale neck. "Say it like you mean it," he returned, his lips brushing over smooth skin before finding a beating pulse and sucking at it hard.

"Stop it," the commander ordered again, gasping at the feel of teeth grazing his neck. "Seifer, stop."

"Say it again," the blond ordered, his free hand twining in dark chestnut hair.

"Stop," Squall bit out, almost managing to push back enough to break free.

"Not that," Seifer chastised. Using the leverage he had on the boy's hips, he nudged a leg between slim legs and rubbed his thigh against Leonhart's groin.

Gasping, Squall's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. His body was reacting to the blond's touch. He was already hard, and beginning to wonder if killing his subordinate for such a thing was murder or self defense. "Seifer," he bit out in warning.

"Better," the ex-knight commented, tightening his grip on silky hair. "But next time scream it." Attacking plush lips once more, he held Leonhart close as he walked backwards, navigating the way to the bedroom easily.

Brows drawn as though anguished while the ex-knight plundered his mouth, Squall felt helpless. It was as though Seifer had more control over his body than he did, and it was a bit frightening. It felt good, but his mind was pleading that it ended. He was embarrassed, ashamed, angry, and still confused.

As Seifer stepped back, the barefoot commander had little choice but to follow, stumbling along when his embrace gave no room for hesitation. The sharp prick on his tongue told him that he'd once again cut himself on those teeth, but he didn't stop. By the time his legs collided with the bed, he had Leonhart's pants pushed down to free that tail.

"Bastard," Squall hissed as he was pushed down onto the bed, quickly topped by the larger man.

"You're already this hard kitten, don't tell me you don't want this," Seifer purred, his hand rubbing the front of the commander's arousal.

As Squall bucked into the touch, he felt the greatest wave of shame as his eyes burned with tears. It was a disgrace to be rendered helpless so easily and frightening that his body seemed to have a mind of its own. It felt good, but he didn't want it.

Seifer slid along that lithe body, riding the brunet's shirt up until dusky nipples were exposed. Teasing a hardened nub with his teeth, he carried on until that sensual body arched beneath him. Eventually making a trail of kisses back to petal soft lips, he delved as deeply as possible into wet heat, wringing soft moans from the boy as his fingers continued to play with each nipple. Grinding down repeatedly, the pleasured friction grew.

Deciding to be rid of all constrictive clothing, Seifer broke away and sat back. Pulling his shirt over his head and discarding it to the floor, he set to work on his pants. Freeing his stiffened cock, he sighed in relief.

Squall eyed the large length protruding from the ex-knight's pants. While a shiver of anticipation ran through his body, fear seized his mind. What the hell had gone on that brought Seifer barging into his place, doing something like this?

Slowly, it dawned on Seifer that something wasn't quite right. Hovering above the brunet, he took a moment to analyze the arousing expression on that pretty face. "Open your eyes," he ordered, a hand reaching up to pet a soft ear. Even when that head turned into his touch, big grey-blue eyes remained hidden from view.

Figuring Leonhart needed more incentive, Seifer grasped the boy's erection and gave it a firm stroke. With only a gasp resulting, he continued until plush lips were parted in moaning. It was then that dark lashes fluttered, eyes peering up and glistening with tears.

"Leave," Squall spoke quietly.

"If you want me to leave, you have to show me that you mean it," Seifer chastised.

Biting his lip, Squall fought against his body's strong desire to accept every touch the ex-knight had to offer. "I can't," he hissed in frustration. "Something's wrong, I can't."

Frowning, Seifer gazed more attentively into stormy blue eyes. He saw fear and anger, not lust and desire. "You mean that," he observed in disbelief. "You're fucking moaning when I touch you, and you don't want it?"

"No," Squall managed, about ready to take a knife to the tail that began moving as though impatient that the blond didn't continue.

"Too fucking bad," the ex-knight said, crushing his lips to the younger man's. He hadn't had much of a choice in taking care of the kitten, and none of this would have happened if he hadn't ended up in such a position. Now he wanted Leonhart. That lithe body without inhibition responded to his touch so beautifully, he couldn't let it go.

Consumed with tasting the commander, Seifer's guilt was rather delayed. When it finally sunk in, he angrily pulled back and stared into anguished eyes. Cursing, he debated the rights and wrongs of the situation. "Why don't you fight me?" he asked, half expecting to receive no answer after three weeks of dealing with a kitten that knew little else but his name.

"…" Squall turned his head away, staring off vacantly in some attempt to not preside over what happened to his body. He wanted more than anything for it to not feel so damn good.

"I've done a lot more when you didn't know what was going on, don't expect me to show some sense of morality now. Tell me or I'll fuck until you can't stand," the ex-knight bit out irritably.

Glaring icy daggers that he wished could actually do damage, Squall returned his focus to the assaulting ex-knight. Slightly less captivated when he wasn't being groped, he stated, "I can't control my body's reactions. Get the hell away from me."

For a long moment, Seifer studied the commander's eyes. "I would," he spoke while gently stroking a flushed cheek, "if you had any conviction in your voice." Reaching down, he once again stroked the brunet's member.

"I heard a little rumor," the blond whispered into the commander's ear. Positioning himself atop the smaller man, he ground both their hardened lengths together. "You're gay. Isn't that why you can't refuse me? You won't get anywhere if you delude yourself."

Not replying, Squall thrashed beneath the ex-knight. Both pained and pleasured by what was happening, there was slight dread in his pending climax. He was beginning to wonder if it might not be so bad after all. While there certainly weren't very many men as attractive as Seifer in the world, there were too many reasons why he wanted nothing to do with the imposing bully.

"Come on kitten, be more vocal than that," Seifer chastised, stretching an arm towards his forgotten pair of pants. A little lube was all he needed when pearly threads of precum were running down the commander's penis.

Seifer took great care in pressing his finger against Leonhart's rosy little entrance. Considering the way his actions had been taken so far, he knew what to expect. Nuzzling a soft ear, he whispered, "Squall." Seemingly just a name, it was so much more between them. As he made a mantra out of Leonhart's first name, his finger invaded that lithe body, pushing into tight heat.

"I never had to teach you to like this," Seifer informed, raking over the boy's prostate gland and hearing the first real cry of pleasure since his arrival. "Your body already loved it."

Mortified, Squall threw an arm over his face, desperate for some level of control. Experiencing sheer ecstasy, he resented the force behind it and how exposed he was. The few people who had ever dared to order him around hadn't done so without repercussions.

"It's okay," Seifer assured, fingers working in and out of the slicked entrance. "Let yourself enjoy it."

"I can't," Squall told the blond, rubbing at shaming tears spilling from his eyes. He wanted to be throwing punches, but his hands trembled and seemed incapable of forming fists with such intentions as to harm the ex-knight.

Seifer was not a sympathetic man. He cared for Leonhart on some level, which was why he was there that night, but his approach in life had always been to take what he wanted. "Look at me," he ordered. When the brunet continued to hide from him, he eased into place between parted legs and lubed his stiffened length up.

Taking a deep breath, Seifer enjoyed the moment for all its worth. "There is no possible way you could be gay and never have undressed me with your eyes. Look at me now." He was confident that no woman alive could resist his handsome face and built body. As far as gay men were concerned, he was still a wet dream. Leonhart didn't seem the narcissistic type, which made him the only other eye candy around.

Still receiving no response, Seifer nudged the mushroomed head of his cock against that puckered opening. Pushing in, he let out a deep groan and hung his head as he fought the urge to come. It was indeed far better than he'd imagined. It was so tight and hot, clamping sporadically around the tip of his manhood.

Taking several deep, calming breaths, Seifer waited a moment to let Leonhart's body accommodate the intrusion. He hadn't taken very much time to stretch the tight opening. "Squall," he called, forcing the commander's hands away. "Look at me."

Reluctantly, dazed grey-blue eyes focused on the blond man above. His fingers flexed around the ones twined with his. He couldn't remember the last time someone had held his hands, and never in such a manner.

Seifer gazed into slightly reddened eyes, the result of little sleep and distressed tears. Leaning closer, he promptly licked moistened cheeks, earning a surprised gasp. Down along each temple and over each eyelid that scrunched shut when his tongue came close. "Don't cry," he murmured. "Never cry."

Shocked, Squall stared with uncertainty when Seifer was finished.

With a smirk, Seifer declared, "I'm not here just to fuck you. I'm here to make you mine." Following his words, he pushed deeper inside the boy. Rocking in and out shallowly, he groaned. Nipping at the tip of Leonhart's ear, he muttered, "Sorry if it hurts. I can't wait any longer."

Feeling his pride and dignity trumped out by what his body wanted, Squall arched up as he was split painfully. "It's fine," he gasped, legs spreading to better welcome the intrusion.

Seifer froze for an instant, wondering if he'd heard correctly. When he realized his overbearing assumptions had been correct, he took the time to lace his fingers with delicate ones more comfortably. With their palms pressed together, he propped himself up, muscles tensing in his upper arm. Rocking in and out, shallow and slow, he watched Leonhart's face avidly.

Squall couldn't tell if he was just being swept away in the moment. While he was still entirely adverse to the idea of Seifer stripping him of control, he couldn't imagine sex with the ex-knight panned out any other way. He wanted it, but he wished he hadn't been won over so easily. There was at least some consolation in silently vowing that it wouldn't happen again.

Lips forming a disapproving line, Seifer searched for meaning in the sudden acceptance he was being given. Pressing closer, his hips undulating all the while, he brushed his lips over the boy's temple. "This won't be the last time," he informed solemnly. "Your body is mine. You can't be satisfied with anyone but me."

Fear seized Squall again. He detected nothing but sincerity in the blond's husky voice. "Hyne," he murmured with consuming trepidation. What betrayal had his body committed?

Grieving the loss of his ever joyful and affectionate kitten, Seifer found comfort in Leonhart's body. He didn't care if Squally-boy continued to rule while sitting on a throne made of ice, but in the bedroom, he would tame that willful spirit and regain the unrestrained attachment he'd been basking in for the past three weeks.

Wondering what grounds he could conjure up for Seifer's expulsion, Squall left such planning when the ex-knight began to thrust harder. Squeezing the man's hands, his head craned back, partly on the pillow. His attempt to bite his lip hard enough to keep from moaning only left him with the sharp prick of his teeth in his lower lip and an embarrassing cry of pleasure.

"You like that?" Seifer grunted in question, thrusting in more roughly.

Unable to form a coherent reply, Squall found himself wrapping his legs around Seifer's trim waist. He'd never had sex with another man before, but Hyne knew he'd wanted to. It wasn't exactly a secret among his friends that he was gay, though no one talked about it. He wasn't open about it, considering his position as commander. Rinoa had left peacefully with promises to keep his secret, and since then he hadn't given credence to the notion that everyone should have someone.

Seifer tightened his grip on elegant hands, pushing in as deep as tight heat would allow his throbbing cock. "Yeah, you love it," he said with an accompanying groan. "Fuck kitten, you're like a damn finger trap around my dick."

"Ahhn," Squall moaned, pleasure spiking beyond anything he'd experienced before. Sex with Rinoa had been temporarily sating but hardly satisfying. This was terribly satisfying, and he'd resent Seifer for the rest of his life for it.

"Is this your first time?" the blond questioned, oddly talkative given the situation that called for little more than grunts and unintelligible sounds of approval. "I think it must be," he answered for the panting brunet. "Any asshole that could manage to bag you would be bragging to every other asshole that would listen."

Squall shook his head, not exactly sure what he was answering and not really caring either. Moving his hips to meet the ex-knight's thrusts, their flesh slapped at each joining while the sound of Seifer's cock sliding in and out squelched. He managed to find a rhythm intuitively, eyes closing as he listened to the arousing sound of what they were doing.

"Fuck yeah," Seifer hissed encouragingly before crushing his lips to Squall's. Every inch of his body crawled with the carnal need to thrust harder and deeper. A tingling sensation of pending fulfillment ran along his spine. He broke away before either of them could pass out from oxygen deprivation, going to the brink heightening his senses in a weird way.

Writhing beneath the larger man, Squall still hadn't climaxed and he was already at a point more pleasurable than any orgasm he'd ever had. Everywhere the ex-knight touched felt good, even the subsequent contact that wasn't consciously done for any purpose.

Despite assurances, or rather threats, that this wasn't the last time, Squall felt as though it was a onetime deal. It occurred to him, among his many broken thoughts, that he might never experience such pleasure again. Wanting just once, if he were truly going to throw his inhibition to the wind, to experience what Seifer had called being fucked until he couldn't stand, he made a request.

Panting at the physical exertion involved, Squall managed to convey what he wanted in two words, "Not glass." For his own wounded pride, he added, "You bastard."

"You should have saved your breath on that one, I already know what I am." Seifer knew he was a bastard, but he wasn't willing to change. Taking care of the kitten had been the greatest act of kindness he'd ever done, and as current circumstances showed, he hadn't done it for free.

Releasing abused hands, Seifer uncurled his stiff fingers. It was probably too much to hope for the commander to hug him close in full acceptance, but he was willing to win Squall's favor with whatever it was that bastard ex-knights did to win the heart of the person they loved.

"Fuck," Seifer cursed, mentally checking himself on the off chance that he hadn't meant to simply woo the person he _liked. _He'd deal with his emotional analysis later, not needing any proper titles when he was about to come like a horny pubescent boy screwing for the first time. Given the go ahead to let loose, knowing first hand that Leonhart wasn't made of glass, he was ready to let his desires take over.

Hands free to roam that perfectly sculpted, lithe figure, Seifer took his time to give the commander a good groping all over. Eventually, he settled his hands at the back of each bent knee. Directing those lean legs to unhook, he hitched them up and successfully maneuvered Leonhart into place for a harder fucking.

With most of the motion coming in a rutting action, his abs working to push his hips forward, Seifer was happy to oblige any whim that wasn't his own while fulfilling his own needs. "Remember, you asked for it. Don't break on me half way through, cause I'm not stopping."

It took Squall a moment to comprehend what was going on. When he understood what Seifer was up to, he almost whimpered at the expected onslaught of more intense penetration, entirely hopeful that it would feel every bit as good as it did rough.

Without further warning, Seifer thrust in as far as he could manage. Putting enough force behind it to shake the bed, he proceeded to use every bit of leverage he had. He knew he'd struck gold when a scream of his name mixed with Hyne's was called out. He was mildly concerned about sheathing himself completely when he felt certain it was the brunet's first time taking cock. Most women couldn't take him all and they'd been designed for it, so to have his cock buried in the boy's ass so deeply made him wonder if was indeed going to make an invalid out of the commander.

"You've taken it all Leonhart," the blond announced through gritted teeth, the effort of giving it so hard and fast taking its toll. While his concerns arose, they didn't plague him or cause guilt when the younger man only cried out in pleasure.

For Squall, it was over before he was able to relished being screwed so hard. Not even given the chance to attempt to hold out, ribbons of pearly white fluid spurt out of his throbbing length, coating his stomach in sticky release. Every continued thrust inside of him caused his cock to jerk and spasm more. There seemed no end to it, just wave after wave of ecstasy, copious amount of cum still finding a way out through the tip of his erection.

Seifer forgot his own name when Leonhart climaxed. Briefly, he was able to enjoy the sight of flushed cheeks and that sexy expression of passionate ecstasy, but he was quickly distracted when the boy's tight anus contracted like every other muscle in that tautly arching body. His cock was squeezed to a point teetering on painful, and it took more effort to pull out and slam back in.

Taken over the edge, Seifer frantically milked his jerking cock in animalistic fury. The skin between their joining was raw from unforgiving slapping, but his spurting length was forever grateful. He spilled himself deep inside searing heat, shooting hot sperm within Squall's body.

Mind blank, Squall couldn't remember where he was or why he felt such euphoria. His body was thankful for something, ready for sleep even while shivers of pleasure coursed through him. Sighing contently, it was several more moments before reality sunk in again.

Seifer's body was shaking as each tremor rolled through him. Starting from the top of his spine and running down, every nerve ending danced as it rushed the shooting pleasure straight to his cock, which was still spurting threads of release. Wondering if the process of milking such a long orgasm had lead right into receiving another erection, he eventually sighed with satisfaction as it ended. His length softened, the raging need to thrust dying out and the post coital bliss of mind blowing sex setting in.

Finally relenting his grip on spread legs, he caved into his desire to rest a moment. Before doing so, he haphazardly tugged the commander's shirt off, consequently causing dazed eyes to sharpen in understanding. Swiping the sticky mess coating Leonhart's stomach, he managed to finish the cleaning task before collapsing against the body beneath.

Sighing once more, Seifer felt the tug of sleep coerce him into staying in place and drifting off. He nuzzled a slender neck, humming his appreciation and contentment.

Squall was asleep before he could form words to complain about the heavy weight atop him. Blissfully unaware of his transgression, he lay unguarded beneath the ex-knight, with a softened penis still buried inside of him and semen messily leaking out.

Seifer groaned in complaint, feeling spent himself and not wanting to move. When he became privy to the fact that Leonhart was out for the night, he was resigned to taking some responsibility for his actions.

Easing off of the brunet, his flaccid length slid out of the winking hole, a trail of release following. If all gay sex felt like that, he'd start talking with a fucking lisp. That was too amazing to care about the strings that came with it. There was no way of matching such an experience. No number of willing ladies could amount to such ecstasy, not even if he compared the amount of orgasms collectively. If there was anything the commander wasn't aware of at the moment, it was how much he was a captive of it all. He had as much control as Leonhart, which was none.

Cleaning up with the boy's t-shirt again, he tossed the sodden rag to the floor and happily drew Squall close after turning the bedding down. Feeling confident that he'd be waking up sooner than the brunet, he settled in for the night without worry about being beaten as a wake up call.

Calming himself, Seifer stroked soft hair, his lips softly kissing the boy's forehead repeatedly. "What an ironic end we've met," he murmured quietly. "It must be fate."

TBC…

A/N: Long chapter, which is obviously why it took longer to update. Ch.13 of Defining Love is coming along. I'm also attempting to force more of my original work out, going for that whole national novel writing month thing. I doubt I can make 50,000 words while keeping up with these two stories, but I refuse to put anything on hold so I'm resigned to not making any deadlines. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter for all its smutty and long sentenced glory.


	4. Chapter 4

**Warning:** Lemon ahead! You can't make lemonade with it, but if you like yaoi and Seifer/Squall action, then it'll be a sweet treat. It's sexually graphic and intended for mature audiences only. I'm old enough to be writing it, so please be sure you're old enough to be reading it. !This is the last chapter/part!

Somatic Memory

Part 4

Squall shivered compulsively with each massaging touch. Mouth open to breath while beneath gushing water, his mind shut down as his senses overloaded. If not for the steadying arm hooked around his waist, he'd likely collapsed to the bottom of the shower with unstable legs.

Chuckling darkly, Seifer continued to run his fingers through sopping chestnut hair, rinsing the last vestiges of shampoo out. Rocking against the commander from behind, his arousal rubbing the boy's lower back, he wrought an indecisive simper from parted lips. Somehow the noise was both begging him to stop and begging him to do more.

"I'm just washing your hair," the ex-knight spoke huskily against a flattened ear.

Squall glared halfheartedly at the tiled wall of the shower. Seifer was hardly just washing his hair. He couldn't put two coherent thoughts together under such conditions.

"I'm being a good boy, kitten," Seifer murmured, his lustful tone hardly trustworthy. "I promised not to fuck you again without permission."

"And you won't get it," Squall managed to say, water streaming down his face. Closing his eyes against the spray, he was forced to have every other sense heightened. The air was moist and heavy, the clean scent of soap assaulting in a pleasant way. His previous issue with the water never being hot enough was long gone as he felt he'd pass out if his body's temperature kept rising. The feel of strong hands touching him everywhere without discrimination or modesty sent him reeling.

Seifer grinned, confident that brunet's strong will was just a cold front. The icy commander would never submit easily, especially to him. There wouldn't be much fun in it if that were the case. "It feels good," he commented. Dipping his head, he suckled on the kitten's pale neck. Both his arms wrapped around the lithe frame in front, one hand deviously brushing low along toned abs while another ran over a hardened nipple.

Squall shuddered violently. It did feel good. Like the night before, everything felt arousing. As the ex-knight's erection continued to rub against him, his body remembered being split by the thick length. The pain he'd felt lingered even then, his lower back sore from the rough and unforgiving intrusion. In some masochistic way, he wanted the sharpness of that pain again. He wanted to be split brutally, to be filled and pleasured by his rival.

As Seifer ghosted a hand low enough to brush over the tip of Leonhart's stiffly standing manhood, he did so with vindictive intent. "Is this from washing your hair?" he questioned innocently. "I haven't even scrubbed the rest of you clean."

"I can wash myself," the commander hissed with seething anger, hating how his apparent arousal contradicted everything he said.

"I came inside of you last night," Seifer said, ignoring the brunet's comment. He waited just long enough for his words to settle in, the boy's body obviously recalling the instance when he'd ejaculated while buried deeply inside that beautiful body. Judging by the subtle fluttering of long lashes, he'd say it was a pleasant memory. "I take full responsibility," he assured.

Making a small sound of protest, Squall expressed his feelings on the matter. He didn't want the blond to clean him in such a way. "I can do it," he stated flatly, dreading an outcome that involved Seifer's fingers inside of him.

"Can you?" Seifer questioned, grinding against the body he held close, purposely angling it so his cock slid along the cleft of the brunet's ass. "I think it'd be best if I did it."

"No," Squall objected.

Tweaking dusky nipples, Seifer rolled the sensitive nubs until the commander arched back and moaned. Abruptly, he released his hold and spun Leonhart around to face him. Roughly pulling the boy flush against his body, he took a moment to assess how far he intended to take things.

Running a hand down a pale back, Seifer followed the trail of water until his hand found the base of the cowering tail, pressed close and curling under. Massaging the base of it, he tugged a few times before it loosened and seemed to give permission to touch more by admitting him access to Leonhart's tight little anus. Grinning broadly, the blond hummed a deep note of encouragement. Continuing to escalate his actions and steadily lose sight of all boundaries, his hand settled on the boy's ass. Kneading soft flesh, he spread shapely cheeks while casually brushing over that puckered entrance. "You don't want this?" he questioned with intrigue, a single finger nudging in.

Letting his head drop against a broad shoulder, Squall battled with his physical desires. "No," he lied, truly wanting nothing more than for the arrogant and imposing ex-knight to fuck him again. He'd never experienced anything remotely close to what he had the night before, and his initial fear upon waking up was that it had been a dream.

"Liar," Seifer accused, harshly driving a finger inside his rival's beautiful body to validate the accusation. Wringing a clear note of pleasure from the commander, he pumped the digit in and out of gripping heat, wondering why it still felt so tight after the number he'd done the night before. Adding a second finger, he mercilessly stroked and applied pressure in just the right place.

Head thrown back in ecstasy, Squall's leg involuntarily rose to wrap around the blond for any purchasing hold, wantonly begging the man for more. Held securely in place, he shut his eyes in shame as he began to rock back against intruding fingers.

"We could be like this," Seifer murmured against a slightly raised ear. "You and me, and it'll always be like this."

The ex-knight was fully aware of the repercussions his actions were more than likely to bring. The moment Leonhart was out of arms reach, he had no hold over the boy's body. Expulsion was just one of many consequences he surely faced, but even if he didn't get another fuck out of it, the previous night had been worth it.

Squall was already about to come, his stiffened length rubbing against Seifer while mind -numbing pleasure spiked from within. Wanting to ask for more, he held on with straining control to not give in.

Knowing Leonhart was close, Seifer favored the boy without attempting to gratify himself. Adding two more fingers in a single thrust, knowing it wasn't the most gentle of moves, he plunged in and out of that tight entrance. The exulting cry was enough to satisfy him, even if his throbbing cock was asking for something in the form of gripping heat and rough friction.

Sent over the edge, Squall frantically held onto Seifer. His arms twined around the older boy's neck, his nails digging into tanned flesh. He tried to press closer to the man in front while simultaneously thrusting back onto the greatest source of pleasure. Even through waves of ecstasy, sharp pain seared at his backside. As he slowly came down, muscles taught and threatening to spasm if he continued to remain so awkwardly posed, the blond removed intruding fingers. To his disgrace, he whimpered at the loss, his voice hardly muffled even while his head was buried in the crook of the larger man's neck.

"Was it good?" Seifer questioned softly. Having zoned out for a moment, registering nothing but the cries of his partner, he was almost surprised when the sound of rushing water filtered back in.

Panting, Squall stood on two legs once more, knowing he'd fall if it weren't for the continued support of the blond. Resting a moment, he chose not to unlink his arms or lift his head. Even when the ex-knight began petting his hair, he clung as though incapable of doing otherwise.

Seifer closed his eyes, relishing the feel of the other's body pressed close. It wasn't his raging hard on that wanted it, but something less carnal inside of him that was hopelessly addicted to such unwarranted affection. He'd never done a damn thing in his life that deserved a kind smile or gentle touch. After three weeks of basking in such treatment, he'd go through hell to get it back.

"This isn't what I want," Squall mumbled, lips brushing damp skin as he spoke.

"No, but it's what I want," Seifer replied. Suddenly filled with desperation to hang on, he whispered solemnly, "Outside, nothing has to change. I'll be a low ranking SeeD and you'll be my commander. But in here, you can be as hedonistic as you want, and I'll give it all to you."

Enticed by the offer, Squall very nearly nodded in acceptance. However, his logical self knew of too many conflicting facts. "You're not gay," he spoke quietly, refusing to believe the ex-knight could possibly remain at his side in such an undeniably homosexual relationship.

Laughing, Seifer reached up and drew one of Leonhart's arms away. Slowly, he directed the boy's hand downward. As he set delicate fingers to touch his arousal, he sighed over the added benefit making his point came with. "Kitten, my disgust for other men has nothing to do with this."

Eyes closed, Squall swallowed thickly, fingers lingering on the foreign feel of another man's penis. Swaying on a scarcely visible boundary, he debated the evils of his actions while ghosting his fingertips along the length. Though his reactions to the ex-knight's touch were not under his control, anything he instigated himself was entirely intentional on his part. So, when he cupped Seifer's swollen manhood, it was the first offensive move he'd done.

"This?" Squall whispered breathily into the blond's ear, hand shifting to wrap around the thick base.

Groaning outright, Seifer managed to answer, "Exactly."

"I'm a man," Squall reminded, in case his nude body happened to resemble some flat-chested, butch woman the blond had become enamored with in the past.

"You're special," Seifer informed, hips rocking into the brunet's hand instinctively. Breathe hitching, he encouraged, "Keep it up."

Biting his lip, Squall lifted his head from its perch on a broad shoulder. Gazing up into lustful green eyes, he gave a firm stroke to the thick cock. Leaning back slightly, still anchoring himself to the ex-knight for support, grey-blue eyes glanced down to watch.

Squall had seen Seifer's erect penis, but never stopped to stare at it. He wasn't quite sure he believed that the whole thing had fit inside him.

Mouth agape, Seifer panted as Leonhart continued to jerk him off. Never so proud of his manhood as when his rival seemed incapable of looking away, he stared avidly at the commander's face. A pink tongue darted out to lick plush lips every so often, as though the boy were hungry. It was just a cruel joke that pointed teeth prevented oral stimulation from taking place right then, because he believed it would only take a little bit of convincing to get Leonhart down there to suck him off.

Squall eyed the angry red tip of the pulsing organ, pearly threads of precum weeping from the slit. As mortifying as it would be to admit to another living soul, he did not deny himself the guilty pleasure of secretly wondering what it tasted like.

The sudden knocking on the bathroom door was as unexpected as it was startling.

"Squall?" Zell's voice filtered in. "Hey man, you in there?"

Stirring from his hazy state of carnal lust, Squall reared back and would have fallen if not for the quick hold of Seifer's arms. Pulled flush against the ex-knight once more, he shivered as warm breath blew against one of his ears.

"Shh," Seifer intoned for silence. "I'm not here," he directed.

Shivering violently at this, it took every ounce of will power for Squall to speak up in a semi normal voice. "What is it?" he managed to call out without faltering.

"Selphie's ready to try and change you back all the way man," Zell announced excitedly. "We'll be in the same place as last time. Take your time man, no rush."

Seifer's hold on the commander tightened without conscious thought. He didn't want to let go.

Squall was suddenly overwhelmed with fearful reluctance to go. Angered by this, he pushed away from the blond, gritting his teeth as his full weight was placed on his legs and his back protested standing straight. "This ends here," he muttered.

Refusing to take rejection, Seifer grabbed the commander's wrist before the boy moved out of reach completely. Staring intensely into bright stormy blue eyes, he shook his head. Yanking the lithe frame back into his hold roughly, he mercilessly attacked plush lips, plundering the other's mouth without restraint.

Becoming a simpering mess in the ex-knight's hold, Squall slipped beneath the heady veil of lust once more. Gruff hands that fondled every inch of his body were sure to haunt him for the rest of his life, searing touches that he'd imagine he could still feel late at night.

Ending the open mouthed exchange with a final lap against slick lips, Seifer instructed, "Return alone, I'll be waiting."

---

"Don't look so nervous Squally," Selphie chimed, smiling brightly with every confidence she could finally fix the commander.

"Whatever," Squall muttered, rigidly sitting on the edge of a surgical table, gripping the cold metal ledge with white knuckles.

"You sure you're okay?" Irvine drawled with concern, approaching the fragile looking man slowly. It would take another few days of not being attacked for the simple act of walking closer before he could do so without caution. Raising a hand, he touched a pale forehead, brushing long bangs aside. "I think he feels a bit hot, doc," the gunman stated, eyes glancing over to Kadowaki as though merely noting the fact would make the fever go away.

Knocking the hand aside, Squall dropped his gaze to the floor, cheeks flushing scarlet as he continued to silently suffer in anxiety over what awaited him upon returning to his quarters.

"Pale as a sheet, but his cheeks are a bit red," Quistis commented.

"I'm fine," Squall bit out tersely, hardly about to explain why he was nervous or what he'd been up to earlier.

Dr. Kadowaki studied the commander for a long moment. "You had a bit of a limp when you came in here," she said, well aware the commander seemed to be acting a bit strange.

"Is not walking straight a crime?" the flustered brunet bit out defensively, entirely mortified before his friends at the moment, even though they couldn't possibly know the true reason for any of his behavior or walking ability.

"Let's just hurry this along," Quistis urged, waving Irvine back. Once the gunman was clear of the commander, she nodded to Selphie. "Go ahead," she instructed.

---

Squall rode the elevator in brooding silence. Cap riding low on his head, he disguised the triangular ears sprouting from his head. No matter how many times Selphie had tried, the ears remained. He half suspected her spell hadn't fixed them because she thought they were too cute to lose. Ironically enough, having inhuman body parts was no longer the most troubling issue he faced.

He dreaded returning to his apartment, but he knew he had to. Having assured everyone that he was in perfect health, it had taken the consumption of a hi-potion and checking of his vitals before Kadowaki gave him leave.

Finding that the walk back to his humble abode was far too short, Squall lingered hesitantly outside the doorway. He was angry, embarrassed, and frightened. Seifer had never intimidated him in all the years he'd known the ex-knight, but yesterday and at that very moment while he stood with a shaky hand reaching to open the door, he was scared.

His life had been turned upside down, and he knew without a doubt that it couldn't possibly work out as flawlessly as the blond had proposed in the shower. With their whole lives dedicated to hating each other, suddenly they were in bed together for no apparent reason.

Ignoring the fact that Seifer made him feel such strong desire and pleasure that he became ignorant of all conflicts, Squall knew that no matter how physically good it was, nothing could come of it. Seifer wasn't even gay, which made him wonder if the entire thing weren't some colossal joke.

He wanted to storm into his dorm room and willfully demand the blond leave and never touch him again, but he was having trouble breathing evenly. He doubted that he could stand defiantly under the intense gaze of jade green eyes.

Retracting his hand from the panel at the side of the door, Squall flexed his fingers before holding his shaking hand close and trying to steady it. He'd known for certain he was gay the first night Rinoa tried to take their relationship a step further. Her kisses did nothing for him, and it had become quite apparent that his lack of interest in any woman wasn't simply born of disliking social interactions altogether.

Sighing, Squall tried to figure the best solution to the mess Seifer had brought upon him. Even if he discharged the newly ranked SeeD, would his life be half as enjoyable without the bullying asshole in it? He had the sinking feeling that it wasn't just any man's touch that could make him feel so hungry and fulfilled at the same time.

Despite hating the lack of control he had over his body's reactions, the pleasure Seifer gave him was hardly lacking as compensation. There was also his recently discovered ability to even the playing board out by initiating his own fondling. Was it possible that Seifer held as little control as himself? It would certainly explain why someone who had immeasurable resolve to become SeeD had run headlong down a path that held expulsion.

Knowing he was making a detrimental mistake, Squall decided to figure out what to do next after meeting Seifer face to face. It wasn't just physical desire he was contending with anymore.

The door opened quietly, but seemed to close loudly, as though sealing his fate. Swallowing thickly, Squall composed himself and strode with as much stubborn resolve as he could muster.

"It's about time," the ex-knight's deep voice grumbled.

The lights were off, making the room dim despite the daylight hour. Squall easily spotted the blond sitting leisurely on the couch. Arms spread wide and posture slouched, it seemed as though Seifer had indeed been waiting the entire time.

Green eyes studied the commander's appearance. "I'm sad Tilmitt has continued to fail so miserably. I'd hoped those teeth of yours would be gone. It's been a while since I last had a blowjob."

Shivering, Squall removed his hat and informed, "She didn't fail. Everything's gone but these." The twitching ears spoke for themselves.

Grinning toothily, Seifer murmured, "I'm delighted to hear that."

Glaring icily, Squall berated himself for addressing the wrong issue.

Before the stubborn commander could kick him out, Seifer gestured for the boy to come closer. When his call wasn't heeded, he reached down and unzipped his pants. It had taken every bit of self-discipline to not jerk off after he'd been left unsatisfied in the shower. His cock was sore and throbbing, springing free of all confines the moment the zipper was undone. Gesturing for the brunet to come to him once more, he waited patiently.

Squall licked his lips, eyes transfixed on the angry red cock protruding from the front of Seifer's pants. The lighting was poor, but he could still see the darker color as blood flowed through pulsing veins and the glistening tip as pearly threads of precum leaked from the mushroomed head.

Seifer bit back a groan, his manhood visibly twitching under the hungry eyed look it was being given. If he'd know Leonhart had such a thirst for this sort of thing, he wouldn't have forbidden the kitten from tasting his semen. Hopefully that wouldn't become an issue like the shower had.

"What's the harm," the ex-knight purred, patience waning. If the boy kept him waiting too long, he'd march over there and force his cock down that pale throat.

Taking a single step forward, Squall felt his resistance shatter. What was the harm in feeling good?

"That's it," Seifer commented, struggling to stay seated.

Standing before the ex-knight, Squall gazed for a long moment into striking green eyes. Desire trouncing logic and reason, he submitted to the request. Kneeling slowly, he felt a wave of heat wash over him. Though a bit nervous, most of what he felt was lust.

"Don't be shy," Seifer chastised when the brunet simply stared at his member. Nudging the boy's chin up, he brought stormy blue eyes to meet his own from the new angle. He felt more powerful than Hyne right then, looking down with the knowledge that he'd brought Leonhart there without excessive force. Running his thumb over a pout bottom lip, he mentally checked himself to not become any more aroused than he already was. Before he let the boy go to it, he slipped a finger past pliant lips to feel along Leonhart's teeth, just in case the prideful brunet had some evil punishment in mind.

Squall gave a small smile, knowing exactly what Seifer was checking for. He couldn't say for certain that he wouldn't do something so painfully mean to get back at the man. "I can still bite," he pointed out when the ex-knight's hand was retracted.

Gaze narrowing, Seifer gestured to his scar. "I'd return the favor to even the score," he informed in warning.

Rolling his eyes, Squall dismissed the matter, having no intention of biting Seifer's penis on purpose. Placing his hands on the ex-knight's knees, he inched closer. Not entirely confident he knew what he was doing, he resolved to do what felt natural.

Lowering his head, Squall glanced up furtively, spying the look of anticipation on the blond's face. With disbelief over what he was about to do, he continued anyway. Wrapping one hand around the shaft, heat stirring in his loins, he leaned down and brought his lips to the very tip.

Shuddering pleasantly, Squall opened his mouth and took his first taste of another man's cock. Licking the slit, bitter fluid seemed to both repulse him and draw him in for more. With ambivalence, he concluded it was an acquired taste. He'd hated coffee for years, but couldn't start a morning without it now.

Laving the mushroomed head, Squall gently sucked on it in his first mouthful. The resulting groan that came from the ex-knight was all the encouragement he needed to take in a little more. Assuming it was generally like sucking on a straw, just a hell of a lot more to fill his mouth, he sucked as best he could manage when his jaw was in such an uncomfortable position.

Easing off, Squall swallowed the precum that had continued to leak into his mouth. The heavy scent of arousal and bitter tang on his tongue was giving him an erection. Lapping at escaping juices, he attempted to produce more by pumping his hand on the shaft.

"I'm close," Seifer grunted in warning, ready to come just from watching the slurping display he was presented with.

Nodding absently, not really heeding the warning, Squall took the length in his mouth again. Taking a shot at deep throating, he failed miserably. He pulled off before he wound up accidentally biting something in his gagging need to be rid of what went too far down his throat.

Seifer would have laughed, had he not felt endeared by the attempt. Reaching out, he ran a hand through chestnut hair, coaxing a slightly embarrassed commander to look up at him. "It's your first time," he observed. "With enough practice, you can fit the whole thing in your mouth. For now, just satisfy me."

Nodding despite himself, Squall let the ex-knight's words comfort him, hating how condescending and assuming they really were. Allowing Seifer to gently direct him back down, his hair still in the man's grip, he took a decent amount of the erection his mouth and sucked. As bitter fluid came, he swallowed it, his tongue swirling about the pulsing length and memorizing the contours.

"I'm coming," Seifer announced, hand tightening in silky hair. It took everything he had not to hold the boy's head in place while thrusting into wet heat.

Squall pumping his hand at the base of the erection as though he were simply jerking the blond off. His mouth filled with hot release, copious amounts of bitter fluid overwhelming him. Though his instinct was to pull away and spit it out, he stayed in place and let it flow down his throat when there was no place else for it to go.

Eventually pulling off, he sputtered for air, losing much of what hadn't been swallowed as it trailed over his lips and made a mess down his chin. Threads of pearly white essence continued to shoot from the jerking organ. He hadn't expected the act of sucking someone off to be clean, but he'd thought he'd have more control over it.

Tongue lapping at escaping cum, Squall sought to claim as much as he could. He didn't have time to feel ashamed for enjoying it.

Seifer rest his head back, gasping as he rode his orgasm out. "Fuck," he breathed out. The continued feel of a wet tongue licking his jerking organ caused him to continue shuddering while his cock kept spurting. It was as if his dick knew why the kitten was still licking away, and just pushing it all out to make sure that tongue never stopped.

When the ex-knight's length softened, Squall finished consuming whatever had escaped. Short of breath, tongue tired, he sat back on his haunches and gazed up. Half expecting that the joke was finally over, the objective being to humiliate him for being gay, he was surprised at the solemn look in green eyes.

Staring down through partly closed lids, Seifer asked, "What'll it take to make you keep seeing me?" As fun as it was to wear down that stubborn pride, he needed some level of acceptance. Straightening up a bit, he tucked himself away. While it hadn't been the most skillful or prolonged blowjob he'd ever had, it was ranked number one. "Come here," he urged, arms open and inviting.

Slowly rising, Squall didn't think twice before taking the offered hand. Pulled into the man's lap, he squirmed around until his legs rested on the couch. It was perhaps more surreal to be held in such a manner than to have sex with the man.

"You need more than sex?" Seifer questioned, hapless in his need to be with his rival. "I can't make promises, but I can try." Hands petting soft hair, scratching furry ears, he coaxed the commander to relax in his hold.

Squall wallowed in the embrace for a bit, enjoying the feel of strong arms and deft fingers raking through his hair. "I don't know what I want," he admitted quietly.

"The body is generally the more truthful form of what's inside," Seifer said, trailing a hand down to brush along the front of Leonhart's arousal. "Let me fuck you again," he whispered huskily, desire for the kitten hardly abated even after he'd just come.

Shivering, Squall cursed the excited anticipation the coursed through him. He wanted to be angry, but he'd suspected the moment he returned to his dorm alone that he'd wind up in bed with Seifer again. He couldn't shove all the blame on the ex-knight.

"I hate you," the brunet declared, the anger in his tone born of self loathing.

Chuckling as though the words were a term of endearment, Seifer nuzzled soft hair. "Show me how much," he cooed. "Ride me for all your worth. You turn me on like nothing else kitten. We're in the same boat."

Gasping as the hand at his groin rubbed harder, Squall remained complacent as he was directed to lie down on the couch. With the blond hovering over him, he was quickly consumed in the act of battling the man's tongue as it invaded his mouth.

Arms free to push the domineering man away, Squall longed to do so, but only for the sake of his pride. Instead, he hugged the form atop himself and kissed the man back feverishly. The fire between them might just consume him and then it wouldn't matter if it were wrong.

Seifer groaned, experiencing a whole knew level of passion when Leonhart became assertive. Ravishing the boy was a heightened pleasure when he had to battle for it. When the brunet began sucking on his tongue, causing him to lose focus and fall susceptible to lust entirely, he pinned narrow shoulders down. Becoming more forceful, he delved deeper. As his tongue continued to twine in battle and meet with resistance, his need for domination grew unreasonable.

Pulling back abruptly, Seifer stared into dazed eyes. "Let me taste you," he demanded heatedly.

Panting for air, Squall wasn't entirely sure he understood what the blond wanted. "I am," he returned with an annoyed edge.

Not speaking further, Seifer dipped once more to capture pout lips. Riding the brunet's shirt up, he exposed a toned chest. Forcing further submission out of the boy, he tweaked a dusky nipple until that body arched up and a keening moan sounded. Swallowing any noise the commander made, he tasted the wet heat that had sucked him off earlier.

Slowly drowning in pleasure, Squall sank into the cushions. All strength seemed to leave his body. Left to the blond's mercy, he simpered at each groping touch and bucked into the hand rubbing his arousal.

Victorious, Seifer gave the poor, breathless kitten momentary reprieve. Breaking away, he focused on undressing Leonhart as quickly as possible. Tearing the boy's shirt off, he sat up and admired the body he'd helped to sculpt over the years. Egocentrically, he was proud of his work. Showing his appreciation, he slid his hands along the lithe torso, feeling every ridge and curve.

Hands settling on flaring hips, a curvature that was an illusion made by such a trim waistline, Seifer sobered as he stared into grey-blue eyes. "Do I have your permission?" he questioned seriously, fingers ghosting beneath the waistband of denim jeans.

Giving the ex-knight a withering glare, Squall expressed his dislike for the question. As if willingly falling into the man's arms weren't permission enough, now he had to voice the truth of his actions. "Yes," he muttered darkly.

Grinning broadly, Seifer leaned down to kiss the boy. "It'll be good Leonhart."

"Whatever it is, it had better stay between us," the brunet bit out tersely, unable to properly express the importance of absolute secrecy.

"Yes sir," Seifer said, giving a mock salute. "Though I can't promise not to undress you with my eyes every time I see you."

"I should dishonorably discharge you," Squall returned in annoyance.

Scoffing, Seifer undid the top button on of the commander's pants. "I may be guilty of molesting you the past few weeks and screwing you last night, but you're guilty of loving every second of it."

"I didn't," Squall protested.

"Then why'd you come back?" the blond countered, hand slipping inside the boy's pants.

Arching back, Squall found the answer was quite simple. "For this," he said, hands reaching up and pulling at the shirt Seifer wore. He'd always admired the man's body, though he'd been too repressed to ever look at it in a lustful manner.

Hair disheveled as his shirt was discarded, Seifer gazed down at the brunet. "Maybe we should move into the bedroom," he suggested, quite certain they'd need the extra room.

"Whatever," Squall said indifferently. It didn't matter if they didn't it on the couch or in a bed, he'd let Seifer fuck him up against a wall so long as it happened.

"I hate that word," the blond commented, peeling himself off the commander.

"…" Sitting up, Squall went about unlacing his boots, preferring to be undressed by the time they made it to the bed.

Smirking, Seifer stood, and worked on removing his own pants. He delighted in standing before Leonhart naked. His manhood rigid and growing hard once more, it drew that same hungry eyed gaze it first had in the shower. "You're something else kitten," he whispered, stepping closer with a look of expectancy.

Squall stared into green eyes. In naught but a pair of boxer briefs, he shifted uncomfortably, his own erection in need of attention. However, as the blond presented him with the glistening tip, he met it with his tongue.

Seifer rocked forward, careful not to force too much inside the boy's mouth at once. It didn't take very much before he was fully erect, but it took almost everything to pull out and not finish the deed.

Angling a look upwards, Squall gazed at the man, lips parted to take in each panting breath.

Running his thumb along a wet lip, Seifer swiped away what he assumed to be both saliva and semen. He groaned as his hand was taken into Leonhart hold, his thumb licked clean before he could wipe it off elsewhere.

"Get your ass in the bedroom," the ex-knight ordered.

It was in Squall's nature to be defiant, particularly against his former rival. "Or else what?" he bit out.

"Or else I carry you," the blond explained, twisting his wrist to reverse the grip Leonhart had. With one good yank, he launched the boy up and against his chest. "Either way, it ends with me doing you again."

Skipping ahead, having done his share of waiting that day, Seifer trailed a hand down beneath Leonhart's briefs and toyed with a puckered entrance. The lack of a tail was bizarrely new to him, but what lay further south was quite familiar. Nudging his finger in and out, he reminded the brunet why they were in agreement and why arguing only deprived them both of what they wanted most.

In a frenzy of needy kisses and groping hands that were too busy with copping feels to consider being gentle, the rivaling pair thrashed around on the bed. Sheets and blankets strewn about, pillows knocked asunder, the only gentle handling came from the mattress they were on.

Before he could fall entirely helpless with lust, Squall rolled their forms over once more. There was an acute rhythm needed to keep his wits about him. If he pleasured Seifer first, then he didn't lose control. It was as simple as that. It was kill or be killed, just like any battle.

Atop the larger man, Squall forced away the hand that continued to stretch his entrance. Having had enough of just fingers, he went straight for Seifer's cock. Easing back, blindly guiding the thick organ to his opening, he pushed back. Wincing before the mushroomed head was even fully inside, he was reminded of why he'd walked with a limp all morning. Straightening up, he lowered himself onto it stiff length, inch by painful inch.

Seifer threw his head back, suddenly finding fault in relenting control. Unable to contain his need any long, he gripped slim hips and thrust upwards into sinfully tight heat.

"Ahh!" Squall cried, pain flaring as he was filled beyond capacity. It was too much to handle, but there wasn't a single muscle in his body that would listen to his demand to pull off.

"Sorry," the blond grunted, sincerity lacking as he promptly used his hold on the commander's hips to lift the lithe body up and slam back in.

Grimacing at the agonizing brutality of it, Squall clawed at the ex-knight's chest. "Wait," he pleaded, needing to at least adjust to the intrusion. Seifer's penis was thick, very thick at the moment.

"Can't," the ex-knight hissed, eyes closed as he was driven by overwhelming need.

Squall cried out once more, collapsing altogether against the ex-knight's broad torso. "It hurts," he pleaded, only needing a minute or two to adjust.

Cursing, Seifer released his grip on Leonhart's hips. As his hand instinctively went for their hold again, he forced them to move elsewhere. Wrapping his arms around the boy, he rubbed up and down a smooth back, silently apologizing. "I'm waiting," he soothed, rubbing his cheek against a flattened ear.

Breathing a note of relief, Squall waited for several painstaking minutes. It was such an awkward instance, to lay against Seifer with the older boy inside of him. He shivered at the thought, muscles involuntarily clamping around the length.

Groaning, Seifer chastised, "Don't make it tighter." He would come just from that much.

Not exactly able to control it, Squall chose that moment to begin moving. Rolling his hips, he pushed more of the length inside and pulled off a bit, only to repeat.

"Fuck yes," Seifer hissed, releasing his hold on the boy.

Squall leaned up enough to gain some leverage. Slowly, he rocked back and forth in shallow motions. The sound of the slick cock as it pushed in and slid out of his lubed entrance let him hear what he couldn't see.

"Harder kitten," Seifer urged, needing to be buried as deeply as possible.

Shaking his head, it took Squall a moment to vocalize his response. "Not yet," he managed, gasping in an effort to keep the slow pace he had going. It was more work and pain that he thought it would be, certainly more than the night before. "It still hurts."

Seifer couldn't hold back any longer. Deciding to make apologies later, he roughly flipped their forms over. "You can take it," he said, dipping to kiss soft lips and swallow the boy's sound of protesting surprise.

All at once, Seifer gripped the back of bent knees and pushed parted legs up. Pulling out, he thrust in harshly. The resulting cry of pained pleasure was enough to sooth his conscience.

Squall didn't understand why it felt so good. It hurt, but laced with that pain was growing pleasure that ran through him with each thrust. Impaled without mercy, his agony became an indecipherable mix of painful ecstasy.

"So tight," Seifer grunted, not understanding why his orgasms came so quickly and heavily with Leonhart. There was certainly little technique involved, but perhaps the base rutting was perfect for sating his carnal need. "Are you close?" he asked, feeling his own end rushing nearer.

"Yes," Squall gasped. "Harder!"

Thrusting madly, Seifer set a frenzied pace. Buried to the hilt, then pulling out, he rammed back into the gripping depths of Leonhart's body. "Fucking Hyne," he said through clenched teeth, beyond grateful for whatever circumstances had lead up to that moment.

"Seifer!" Squall called, gripping the sheets so tightly his hands felt numb. He didn't give a damn about what was right. He didn't care that it was his subordinate and childhood rival, or that it had all started against his will. He didn't care that the ex-knight would likely only use him for sex, because at the moment that was all he needed. He didn't care about semantics, despite the gravity of the situation. He just didn't care about any of it any more.

Cast over the edge, Squall felt as though he were actually falling. Wave after wave of ecstasy rolled through him. Forgetting to breath, becoming deaf to his own cries and those of his partner, he felt nothing but numbing pleasure.

Tethered to Leonhart's line, Seifer followed the boy in climax. Buried so deep that he couldn't tell where his body ended and where Squall's began, he shook with the force behind his orgasm. Ejaculating, his jerking organ seemed incapable of stopping despite the impossibility of having that much semen after the amount released with his earlier blowjob.

Winding down, Squall couldn't catch his breath or sense of being. His disorientation was almost frightening if not for the comforting feel of the ex-knight atop him. Knowing he wasn't alone, he managed to settle back into reality.

Sighing, Seifer relented his iron grip on lean legs. Hips rocking slightly, he delighted in a final few jerks, remaining remnants of semen spurting inside of his rival. Beyond words, and even cursing, he lay motionless and panting.

At length, Seifer knew he needed to get off of the smaller man. His reluctance to do so was surprising even to him. "I don't wanna pull out," he admitted, longing to stay buried in the commander's tight ass for the rest of his life.

Making the decision easy for the ex-knight, Squall pushed the man aside and breathed freely without the weight on his chest. He knew how Seifer felt, suddenly feeling empty without the man's cock inside of him. Wincing, he sat up. Glancing down, his cheeks heated as he spied pearly white essence coating his inner thighs. He could feel the hot liquid leaking out, much preferring the fleeting feeling of the seed being shot into him than the aftermath of it seeping out.

"Sleep with me," Seifer requested, retrieving a fallen pillow and making himself comfortable.

"I just did," Squall scoffed, wiping his own release off his stomach with the end of a sheet.

Rolling his eyes, Seifer reached out and pulling the pale commander close. "It doesn't get better than this Leonhart, trust me."

"…" Not understanding, Squall gazed into green eyes with confusion in his own.

Smirking, Seifer kissed the boy. "Kitten," he began, scratching a pointed ear. "I've been around the block, and you're the best fuck I've ever had."

With a sore ass, Squall easily determined why that was the case.

"Admit it," the ex-knight cajoled. "You want me."

Glaring icily, Squall muttered, "You're delusional." Despite his cold words, he relaxed and settled his naked body against the ex-knight's.

Nipping at a furry ear in reprimand, Seifer decided there was only so much he could force Leonhart to admit in such a short period of time. "Kitten, I'll make you love me," he declared, not backing down even after his eyes widened with the realization of what his words might imply.

Squall didn't reply. His heart beat rapidly, but that had become a common occurrence around his rival since the night before. "Whatever," he finally mumbled in response.

--- THE END ---

Author's note: Yes, that is the end. As I said in the beginning, this was going to be a short piece. Whether or not Squall gets rid of those ears, you decide. It's really just one big PWP, written to make sure I don't rush things between Squall and Seifer in Defining Love. I can't thank everyone enough for all the reviews. While waiting for updates can be annoying, I have too many Seifer/Squall plot bunnies in my head to ever leave you guys hanging for too long.


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